Robin Has a Heart Attack
by Karkadinn
Summary: When Robin has a stress-induced heart attack, the other Titans all react in their own unique ways to prevent any undue stress from hurting him further. However, trying to keep people from being stressed has its own funny way of stressing them out....
1. Chapter 1

Robin Has a Heart Attack

Chapter 1

Long afterwards, the Titans would remember it as the day the unthinkable had happened. They'd faced enemies of incredible proportions, enemies smarter, faster, strong, just plain _better_ than them... and still won. They all thought they were pretty much unflappable as far as adversaries went, at this point. After all, once you've faced down a demon trying to end the world, you have pretty much nowhere to go on your villain roster but down. But this was a day they were destined to face something not a one of them was prepared to fight. No, not even _your_ favorite Titan, gentle reader, whoever he or she may be.

It was an ordinary fight on an ordinary day, as far as our heroes were concerned. That is to say, it was Plasmus. Yes, again. Really, the hard part was not getting so frustrated that they plastered the monster thoroughly enough to kill the human inside, at this point. A recurring bad guy who required showers afterwards, when the Titans only had _one_ bathroom (many curses had been muttered towards the nameless sadistic architect), was _not_ a thing of joy. Plasmus bobbed and weaved and flowed like a linebacker's wet dream, and whenever things got a little too hot for him, he just divided himself a few times and let the Titans partake of the dubious pleasure of fighting multiple dank, slithery opponents each with different limb structures.

It was not the finest hour for our brave heroes. They were tired, grumpy, frustrated, and thoroughly slimy. Robin and Starfire had had a date interrupted by Plasmus's outing, Raven had been in the middle of a really good book, Cyborg had wanted to wash the T-car (it would need extra, extra washing after this), and Beast Boy had needed just a few more seconds to totally pwn the face of some snipering racist noob in Halo (green was _too_ a valid minority!). They'd been busy having lives, which is important for the proper development of healthy teenagers. And now Plasmus was interrupting their lives, quite shamelessly ignorant of the fact that he couldn't possibly beat them at this point, only annoy them.

So it's understandable if Robin wants to try a few new strategies to get this thing over and done with quicker, right? But the thing about making strategies in Plasmus-oriented battles is that the blob is perfectly capable of changing forms, dividing, and merging at will to make any set in stone plan worthless. So here is the conflict: an irritated Robin trying to get his team to coordinate themselves, an enemy that requires different kinds of coordination from moment to moment, and a team that is not used to being precisely ordered to do completely different things every five to ten seconds.

There was a great deal of yelling involved.

Now, it is important to understand about our heroes that absolutely none of them are deficient in the lungpower area. Cyborg can holler with the best of them. Robin will bark and shout for worry over his teammates expressed in discipline, whereas Starfire will cry out and shout for worry over her teammates expressed in lack of discipline (they were a fun couple to watch interact, but only if one was standing at a reasonably safe distance). Beast Boy's half-coherent, tripping over his own verbal legs hootanannying (as his best bud Cy liked to call it) was further empowered by his ability to recruit a wide variety of animal lungs to his cause. And Raven, well... half-demon and half-human makes for all loud when she gets pissed. In a battle of volume between all five, there is no clear winner (unless it is a battle of seeing who can hit the highest note, in which case Cyborg is always the victor).

So, dear friends, we have the situation pictured clearly in our heads, I trust?

And it is in the middle of all this that Robin, ever-suffering leader, staggers, clutches vaguely at his left shoulder, and collapses without anything touching him.

What is remarkable about this, first of all, is that it somehow empowers the team to completely annihilate in the blink of an eye the enemy that had been giving them a hard time for the past twenty minutes. It's not to say that they'd been holding back before, but rather that the (super)human body's limits are generally more fettered by subconscious psychological restraint than actual physical barriers. Plasmus went down for the count with such splattery, gooshy force that civil servants would be grumplingly cleaning purple gunk out of the local city block for weeks afterwards. Then, driven by the same terrified worry over their leader (composed of approximately fifty percent pure affection, fifty percent the realization that without Robin they were totally screwed if a big name villain came calling), they instantly teleported over to his side, nevermind that only one of them had the ability to teleport in the first place.

Cyborg was the first to realize the awful truth.

"Holy expletive deleted, I think he's had a heart attack," he proclaimed with panicky incredulity.

"...what?!" the rest of the team exclaimed in a rare moment of precise synchronization that Robin would have been proud to see, in any other circumstances.

"Are you serious, dude?!"

"Does it look like I'm joking?!"

Then, in yet another synchronized moment, Starfire, Beast Boy, and Cyborg all turned the resident fix it with magic girl.

"RAVEN!"

"I can't do anything about heart attacks, they're too delicate! I could kill him just as easily as help him!"

This set the Titans on a path to unfamiliar territory. They were used to having Raven as the medical get out of jail free card. Deprived of that, they had no other choice but to go to jail.

That is to say, the hospital.

The white coats gave them all weird looks when they told them what was wrong, but other than that were perfectly professional. Superheroes led strange lives, so naturally they'd be saddled with strange medical problems, right? Although this was strange even for a superhero. Why would someone so young have a heart attack? Was Robin really an ancient shapeshifter who just looked young on the outside? Was he taking secret black market adrenaline-enhancing drugs? Perhaps he'd made a deal with the Devil to get super martial arts skillz in exchange for a weakened heart? No one knew for sure, but everyone would be speculating on the internet by the time the hospital closed for the evening. One of the nurses in attendance was a frequenter of Titans-related chat rooms, and having a Titan in the hospital for a heart attack was just about the most interesting thing that had ever happened to him in his whole life, so we can forgive him for being a bit of a blabbermouth.

As usual, the hardest part of the doctor's job was not diagnosis or recommending treatment, but simply telling the patients what had happened. With a straight face. Doctor Lesion had had a lot of practice at it, though, and at least it wasn't a light bulb up someone's butt this time. The starkly contrasting multi-colored glory of the Titans was a bit distracting, but he managed by squinting a little and not focusing on any one teenaged superhero too closely. Even so, just having someone that orange and another someone that green in the same room was giving him a bit of a headache. And then there was all the purple. Someone really had to talk to them about the purple.

"All the signs point to the heart attack being stress-related," he told them with at least outward calm and poise. "This is, I think, the youngest case of a stress-related heart attack in modern medical history, but that shouldn't affect treatment. He'll make a full recovery so long as the proper precautions are taken."

"My partner for activities of the romance will be well, then?" the orange one asked, twiddling her fingers nervously.

"Yes, he will be, uh, well..." the doctor replied slowly, giving his brain time to digest Starfire's 'alternative' English. Unlike the nurse, he wasn't a big fan, and this was his very first exposure to Starfire-ese. "Perhaps you can tell me a little bit about his usual schedule, so we can get a better idea of how drastically he'll need to alter his routine for safety's sake."

The Titans shared a Look. Doctor Lesion had had a great deal of experience with Looks in his profession. This particular one was the kind that involved them contemplating telling him things they suspected he wouldn't like.

"Well, as a superhero, he's never really totally safe, ya know," Cyborg piped up. "I mean... are you sayin' he'll have to quit the biz?"

"No, no, not at all," Lesion said cheerfully before they had time to swing down into depression with the bipolar rapidity he knew all teenagers were blessed with. "He'll still be able to act as your leader and be quite... um... as superheroic as ever. But he may have to take a more, shall we say, relaxed approach. So, tell me... your Robin seems quite physically fit. How often does he work out? Perhaps he simply needs to lighten his physical workload a little." Feeling that things were going along about as well as could be expected, Doctor Lesion relaxed enough to take a sip of his coffee. Mmmm, Starbuck's. Does a doctor good.

Another group Look. Cyborg was the one to reply, taking the leadership by default, seemingly only because he was the least dysfunctional of the lot.

"Six to half past eight am, noon to one pm, nine to ten pm on Sundays. Six to nine am and eight to ten pm on Mondays. Seven to..."

The half-robot was rattling off times precisely as though he had been forced at some point or other to memorize all of it. A few more days of scheduled workouts flashed by, blurring together in Lesion's head. He decided that this was not a safe conversation to be drinking during, and so he put down his cup of coffee very, very carefully.

"Whoa, now," he broke in gently, holding up a hand. "How about you just sum it up for me? How many hours in a week does Robin exercise, not counting missions?"

Cyborg shuffled his feet and answered with a number that made Doctor Lesion glad he'd put down his coffee.

"I see," he said with carefully feigned solemnity. "That's most likely part of the problem, then. He needs to take it easier on himself or his body will give out sooner or later, if he's working himself that hard and doing all these dangerous missions too."

"But Robin always says you're s'posed to push yourself past your limits," Beast Boy put in forlornly, with the dazed, bewildered look of someone who had found themselves in a strange land where the rules governing reality no longer functioned as expected. The other Titans nodded hesitantly at the statement, agreeing in sentiment but plainly not wanting to risk the wrath of The Almighty Doctor.

"Robin's full of crap, kid," Lesion told him bluntly, and found it difficult to repress an eyeroll as he watched the entire team of supposedly hardened superheroes stare at him in shocked disbelief. "It's good to try your very best at what you do. And I'm not belittling the incredible accomplishments you've all done for this city. Believe me, we're all grateful that you go out there day after day and do things the rest of us can't. But no matter who you are or what you do, there comes a point where you have to admit there are some things you _can't_ do, or you'll end up committing suicide by proxy. Motivational speeches are all well and good, but if they motivate you into martyring yourself then they're motivating you too darn much. So, we've been through the exercise he gets in his, uh, 'leisure' time if we may mockingly call it that... what about the crimefighting side? What does he do in the typical fight against bank robbers and so on?"

Cowed, they related to him in turns a great many tales of his self-sacrificing heroism. It was as bad as he'd expected, and rather touchingly tragic that they couldn't see how bad it was for themselves. Robin worked the hardest of all of them to keep up with all his superhuman teammates. He made himself do things that Doctor Lesion knew left him aching and sore the next morning, and then he made himself do it all over again. And again. And again. Even with fancy, expensive technological help, the strain had to be incredible. And all the while Robin took the additional stress of being leader of a group of teenagers with diverse abilities, different physiological and biology issues, severe personality conflicts, incredibly diverse upbringings....

Doctor Lesion had a couple teenaged kids of his own, and there were plenty of times when he thought they would surely drive him to an early grave. And they were all of the same species!

The Titans couldn't really be blamed for not understanding how tight a wringer Robin put himself through. Firstly, Lesion was good enough at reading between the lines to be able to tell that Robin was clearly a secretive and stoic fellow, who would rather kill himself (literally, perhaps, if things kept going on like this) than complain about pulling his own weight and a little extra besides. Secondly, they were, after all, still just teenagers... insanely strange teenagers with unusual hobbies and abilities, perhaps, but teenagers nonetheless. They just took it for granted that Robin could do the things he did because he'd always been doing them. He was _Robin_! As in, Batman and Robin... one half of a crimefighting duo of legendary proportions. Of course he would live up to his reputation. That was what made him Robin. He was Different. He was Special.

It was Doctor Lesion's job to tell people that they were not unique and beautiful snowflakes. He liked _Fight Club_, and only stopped quoting it at patients when his supervisor had threatened to cut his pay for scaring people. Doctor Lesion knew, with all the painful certainty that decades of debt-incurring medical training could give, that no one was Different or Special.

"Okay. Here's what you're going to have to do," he said brusquely when he'd gotten a full overview of Robin's hectic life. He was going to have to do a slash and burn of the poor hero's schedule, but the boy would thank him for it when he was still alive ten years from now. Hopefully. "First of all, you're going to have to give Robin a more peaceful environment outside of the necessary crimefighting duties. That means no more unnecessary yelling, no more tattletelling on each other, and no more fighting, arguing, bickering, pranking, invading each other's privacy, or hurting each other's feelings."

"Wow, there goes all of Beast Boy's quality time with Raven," Cyborg murmured. Beast Boy started to smack him, but looked ashamed and put his hand down at a significant Look from Doctor Lesion.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. No more of _that_. Understand?" It was always hard, telling people they had to grow up faster than they'd like. But that was mostly what doctors did. That, and identify when people stopped being people and started being corpses. Doctor Lesion was a cheerful pessimist.

"But... but... Cyborg eats, like, a ton of meat! And I _hate_ meat!" Beast Boy protested.

"Too bad," Lesion said flatly. "Get over it." It was interesting to watch the green kid's ears droop with his demeanor.

"So, a peaceful home environment. Second, you can't let him exercise himself to death. It's good to keep in shape, but the body needs time to rest, too. Keep him occupied with other activities." Now, what did the young people like to do these days? "Go... clubbing, or out to the arcade, or play a board game or something at least once every couple of days, and do _not_ let him skip out on it. You are absolutely not to let him have more than two workouts a day. Keep it to one if you can."

They all nodded, suitably subdued by his medical authority.

"Third, for heaven's sakes, don't let him spend so much of his non-exercising time brooding and fretting away over old newspaper clippings and whatnot. How many cases has he actually solved with all that? Not many? Then it's obviously not so much detective work and a lot more of his brain running around in circles being depressed and angry at himself. Give him his privacy when he wants it, but if he starts locking himself up in his room for hours at a time, you're to snap him out of his funk."

"I can sneak into his room as a fly to spy on 'im and make sure he's being good!" Beast Boy said excitedly, eager to be helpful. "I'm super good at it anyway, I spy on the team all the time!"

Okaaaayyy. That was a little... creepy, from Lesion's point of view, but whatever. "Fine, whatever works. Now, when he's actually on missions... it's okay for him to participate, but he needs to do so in a more low key fashion. You kids have to realize that he's not like you. His only superpower is a self-destructive desire to go down in a blaze of glory, which is probably Batman's idea of earning your way into heaven or something. He _shouldn't_ be able to keep up with you, and it's hurtful to him that he makes himself do so anyway. He can fight if he wants, but you have to keep at least one other person with him at all times for backup. He should be leaning on you kids for support, and you have to _make_ him, no matter how hard he argues. Don't let him take on crooks or robots or mutant slime... things... in equal number to you guys. Watch his back, encourage him to launch quick, easy assaults and then retreat before things get too rough. Try to get him to mostly rely on his weapons and a bit less on hair-raising gymnastics and martial arts, except in emergencies."

"That's going to be difficult," Raven put in, speaking for the first time. Her voice sounded so calm, so dignified, Doctor Lesion almost relaxed and let himself think he was talking to an adult. Then he took a second look at her goth attire and dyed hair (and what was that thing on her forehead?!), and unrelaxed. "Robin's the kind of person who won't settle for anything but the very best from himself or anyone else."

"Well, why don't you just try reminding him that he can't give his best in such a way as to cause him to get hurt or killed? If he's really an important part of your team, and you really need him, then you need to get it through his head that he can't race right over the edge just because he doesn't want to slow down."

Another one of those group Looks.

"We do need him," Starfire said quietly, staring at the floor.

"So much," Cyborg added with a heavy sigh.

"Alright then. I know it's hard, but you have to convince him that this is the way to go if you don't want to lose him sooner or later. Now, there's just one last thing I need to tell you kids. Robin will be in here for a few days for observation, partly to be safe, and partly because this really is a strange case and we want to be sure nothing... uh... weird is going on." Weirder than the four people in the room with him right now, anyway. "But when he gets out, for the next two weeks afterwards, you all have to _make_ him relax. All the guidelines I've given you are for when he's out of immediate danger. But so soon after the heart attack, he'll still be very weak. He may act like he's just fine, but the slightest exertion or stress could push him over the edge. He needs time to recover fully, and you have to give him that, whether he wants it or not. Get him his favorite books, tape his favorite shows for him, cook the meals he likes the most, but don't let him go out to fight crime, don't let him work out, and above all else, don't let anyone fight, argue, or raise their voices about anything. Do you understand?"

They understood.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Beast Boy wasn't so much walking along the sidewalk as he was dragging himself over it in a moody posture that was only slightly more diagonal than horizontal. He didn't get moody often. He liked to think of himself as a complex guy with simple needs that were simply fulfilled most of the time. But every once in a while something would break past his shield o' cheerful, and he was forced to fake being Serious And Brooding for a bit while he recovered from the hurt. It was unnatural for him, really, but sometimes there was just nothing else to do.

It wasn't just Robin. Naw, that was rough but everyone was taking it about as well as could be expected. These past few days of trying to get Robin to do things he just Would Not Do had been a real twist, but only in the ways everyone predicted. No, what was _really_ bugging Beast Boy was Cyborg.

Everywhere he looked, things seemed to remind him of Cy. Big shiny cars rushing by. The pavement of the sidewalk, the same color as some of Cyborg's metal bits. Kids arguing over a video game the two friends had been debating buying last week. The whole world was one big Cyborg reference, like that Kevin Bacon thing.

Many might have thought that being forced to get along would have made Beast Boy and Cyborg closer than ever, since they were already best pals even when they fought like cats and dogs for the most random of reasons. But you would have been wrong to think that, and while Beast Boy hadn't gone into the thing with any preconceived ideas about it, he was perceptive enough, and the break in routine was obvious enough, that it didn't take him too long to see it.

Deprived of the ability to yell at each other, Beast Boy and Cyborg were... barely even friends at all!

He wanted there to be rain pouring down from the sky, drenching him while he walked on, shielded by uncaring emo. He wanted to do something crazy and dramatic. He wanted, above all else, to yell.

But he couldn't yell in the tower, and as soon as he got out, feeling the weight of enforced peaceful politeness lift, he 'd yelled himself hoarse. It hurt a little to even breath now. He'd probably overyelled. Yep. Still wanted to yell a ton, though. And walk in the rain. Lots and lots of cold dreary gray rain.

Was his friendship with Cyborg really so... he didn't know the word, exactly (what little advanced vocabulary he'd acquired had been gotten by peeking over Raven's shoulder at her book of the day, which was an exciting stealth reading experience), but like a vase, all shiny and pretty and frail and thin? Didn't they have more between them than just fighting over food and games and stuff? After everything they'd been through together... didn't they have more things to talk about?

Caught in a whirlwind of green furry teen superhero angst, he didn't even notice Jinx until he'd bumped into her. Still a little twitchy around each other due to her formerly villainous standing, they both jerked a bit and backed up exactly one and a half steps (the preordained distance for backing up from people you don't feel comfortable around but feel the need to pretend to be comfortable around).

"Oh, hi, sorry I didn't see you..."

"My fault, my fault," she waved him off with a nervous smile. There was an awkward pause as Jinx tried to figure out what to say, while Beast Boy's brain simply blanked out into the mental equivalent of tv fuzz, uninterested in faking sociability much after the latest double whammy of gloom. "So, um... what's up? You look kinda down." It was the obvious thing to say, even though Jinx didn't really care _that_ much... but she did care a little. The main Titans team had accepted here, after all, even if they didn't try too hard to get super close. She owed them at least the basic concern of one superpowered vigilante to another. And she'd never seem him look so much like something that, for some reason, wanted to be cold and wet.

Beast Boy was not in a mood for tact even if he was a tactful person to begin with. "Well, Robin's had a stress heart attack..."

Jinx can, perhaps, be forgiven by us (if not by Beast Boy) for gaping a moment and then laughing. "N-no way! Are y-you for real?!" she managed through her laughter.

"It's not funny!"

"Oh my Gawd, he has got to be the youngest person ever to... hahahahGLRK!"

Beast Boy had his fists in the collar of her outfit, and although he wasn't the strongest guy in his regular form, he was more than strong enough to drag her up close to him and hold her just a little up in the air, so she had to stand on her toes. All at once, all that teen angst solidified and concentrated itself into a Raven-esque stare of icy doom. Jinx was pretty much speechless, having never seen Beast Boy in his underused serious mode.

"It's. Not. Funny," he growled.

She swallowed, probably in shock, which is the only plausible explanation for what came out of her mouth next. "B-but... you're _Beast Boy_... you think that practically _everything's_ funny..."

"Not. This."

"C-can you stop speaking with little pauses in between words like Shatner? It's really creeping me out."

Probably confused himself as to how _he_ could ever creep out someone like _her_, Beast Boy blinked, snapped out of his emo rage, and dropped her back down gently. "Oh. Oh yeah. Um, sorry. Look, I don't mean to be a jerk or anything, but he could've died and stuff, and we're having to do all kinds of things to reduce his stress levelage, so yeah. I know it's weird but it's not funny if you're going through it. It's really not, I promise."

"Okay. Yeah. I'm sorry about that. Look, I'll send him some flowers or something. Does he have a favorite?"

And this is one of those very special moments when the communication network between men and women typically jam up. While ordinarily the lines of traffic are reasonably smooth, on certain topics there is simply little to no chance that one side will understand what the other side is talking about. One of these examples would be the typical masculine obsession with _the Godfather_. Another one would be a fact that has continually perplexed the male mind for all eternity: that Women Care About Flowers.

"A favorite what?" Beast Boy asked, blinking in confusion.

"Kind of flower," Jinx said patiently. Fortunately, she had had enough experience in dealing with the unsubtle, brutish male mind via Mammoth, Gizmo, and Kid Flash to understand that they don't always appreciate the finer things in life. Like flowers. Or unicorns. Or things in pink.

A quiet moment stretched out as Beast Boy dived deep into his memory, trying to think of a single instance of Robin ever expressing a preference for one flower over another. They were all equally pretty, weren't they? And they all smelled nice. And stuff. They were... flowers! What did she _want_ from him?!

"Oh. Uh. I dunno," he finally admitted. It was simply a question that had never occurred to him before, just as it has not occurred to most of the men in the world. Men Do _Not_ Care About Flowers. "Anyway, that's part of what's goin' on, so if you could just tell your boyfriend that he shouldn't bug Robin any right now, it would be super awesome..."

Jinx had been a thief. A _sneaky_ thief. Once you developed ears like a cat, you didn't lose them even if you stopped preying on mice. "_Part_ of what's going on? What _else_ is there?" she demanded, hands on her hips. She was starting to feel a little sorry for the furball.

Having an animal and a sad teenager's sixth sense for a sympathetic listening ear, he started up walking again, alongside her, perfectly companionable. They drifted around the city as they talked, two aimless dandelion seeds on the wind, or something equally poetic like that.

"Well, we're not allowed to fight or yell or anything anymore 'cause it makes Robin all stressed, right? And after a couple days of not fighting, I figured out... dude, I don't know what to say to my best friend Cy anymore 'cause we can't argue about anything!"

Jinx knew when it was time to be quiet and just let the ranter rant. "Wow, that's rough," she encouraged him onwards delicately, her head nodding in sympathy that even she didn't know if it was fake or not. Work for a brainwashing megalomaniacal schoolmaster for long enough and it'll do things to your brain that make you thirdguess your own secondguesses.

"I mean, we can still play games with each other but they have to be cooperative, 'cause playing against each other but not yelling when someone, like, unburrows ten hydralisks right behind your firebat-manned bunker is hardly playing at all, you know?"

"Totally," she murmured in agreement, wondering what hydralisks and firebats were.

"And Cy still cooks the same nasty meaty stuff for breakfast, only I can't complain about it, which means we have like nothing to talk to during the most important meal of the day! And he _likes_ it when I yell at him while he's handling a super hot frying pan, it helps him concentrate! Now that everyone's being super quiet he's spilled bacon grease on his elbows like ten times."

"Wow, raw deal." Nod, nod.

"And if it was just like the way it is with Raven now it'd be fine! 'Cause now I get to be friendly to her and stuff like I always am and she can't get mad at me for no reason anymore, like chicks always do!"

"Mmhmm." There was a little twist in Jinx's tone that time that would have served as a warning had Beast Boy not been fully involved in his rant, but he was... well, fully involved in his rant.

"But it's not like that, 'cause being just friendly and stuff around Cyborg feels so _weird_, it's just _wrong_, and we just end up looking at each other like doofuses for a minute and then smiling and walking away! It's horrible!"

"Yeah, it sounds like it. Hey, do you think that necklace would look good on me?" she asked in the same tone, pointing towards a random shop window.

"...dude, that's cold! I'm pouring out my HEART to you and you don't even CARE?!"

His furr was all frizzy, so Jinx patted it down, grinning at his oh so typically boyish confused, outraged look. "Yeah, I care, I just wanted to throw ya for a loop for a second, greeny." As has been mentioned before, and should be repeated for posterity's sake, working for a brainwashing megalomaniacal schoolmaster does things to your brain. Not good things. "So you guys are so used to fighting that you don't know how to be all peaceful together. Well, maybe it's time to learn. You can find ways to get along and enjoy your hobbies and chats without trying to kill each other, if you try. Just by getting used to being nice instead of competitive."

"You think?" Somehow the sunlight shone down on Beast Boy's eyes to show a single sparkly ray of hope.

"Yeah, I really do."

Beast Boy's face scrunched up as the mental gears turned ever so laboriously. "I guess it couldn't hurt to try."

"Nope."

"Okay, I'll do it! Thanks, Jinx! You're the best, dude!"

Watching a green falcon zoom off, Jinx contemplated that if _she_ was the best, then didn't that make everyone else _worse_ than her? And if everyone was worse than her, then this really was a crappy world, wasn't it? She chuckled, imagining telling Superman how much better she was than him, and resolved to reward herself for her good Samaritan work with a parfait. Women Like Parfaits. Men Rarely Like Any Food With A French Name.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Robin was enjoying having a little time to himself, so he could brood over his perfectly normal and not creepy at all newspaper clippings in peace. He couldn't blame his friends for worrying about him, and really, he probably _had_ been working a _little_ too hard, but honestly, they were making _way_ too big a deal out of the whole thing. It had been hard enough to get any privacy before, between Cyborg (who could electronically unlock doors and detach his hand to use as a spy-cam), Raven (who could phase through walls or hold a conversation in your head if necessary), Starfire (Tamaranians had a little trouble with the concept of Earthling privacy, especially when it came to romantic partners), and Beast Boy (who, purely and simply did not respect anyone's privacy or personal space and would go to unnerving lengths to violate both whenever he felt like it). That had been before. And now he had to deal with all that, when they were intent on keeping an eye on him almost 24/7 to make sure he didn't 'stress' himself unnecessarily. It was madness, pure and simple. They had to get over it. It was just one lousy freak heart attack, not a big deal! He would cut five minutes off of his Sunday warmup routine, and try to yell only five or six times per fight, and everything would be fine.

In the meantime, he was hiding in the deepest, darkest corner of the basement with a pile of newspaper clippings, intent on sorting them by date, criminal name, and crime committed before the other Titans found out where he was hiding and scolded him. Not that they would let the clippings go unsorted, of course. Oh no, they knew that if they did that he'd just worry over them constantly. No, they would sort them _for_ him, depriving him of the ability to analyze them with his Batman-trained detective perceptions! That could simply not be borne. He wasn't a child, he could read and sort his own darn clippings on sociopathic mutated serial killers. In fact, it was a perfectly reasonable and relaxing way to spend an afternoon, if his friends would just leave him to it in this nice dark unheated granite cellar. Nothing unhealthy about it at all. It was almost like being back in Gotham, really. He'd gotten in a good five happy minutes of depressing news when he heard a sound that struck terror into the depths of his soul.

"Robin? What are you doing down here?" Raven's voice called out to him from the distance, sounding more like a suspicious mother looking after a toddler than anything else Robin had ever heard. The only thing missing was a 'young man' stuck on the end.

Curses! He was discovered! He had to hide all the evidence or they would take all the clippings away and do a bad job of sorting them before he did a good job of sorting them! Quickly, quickly, under that... big mental venting thingy, before she noticed...

"Nothing!" he called out, trying to suppress the panic from his voice. "Just, um, checking to see how bad the roach problem is down here!"

Raven floated into view from behind a support pillar just as he finished shoving the last of the clippings out of sight. She was frowning slightly. "You know we don't get roach problems because Starfire eats them."

Oops. He'd forgotten that they were a substitute for a common Tamaranian ingredient for one of Star's favored puddings (they were not at all the same color as the traditional Tamaranian insect, but they skittered and crunched just about the same, so she had deemed it acceptable). He had to tread carefully here, or Raven would find him out and his private serial killer articles quality time would be over for good!

"Did I say roaches? I meant, um... rats. I thought I saw one so I thought I'd investigate."

She raised one eyebrow. "Really."

"Yeah! I think I saw some droppings, too!"

"Probably just Beast Boy," she said dismissively, closing in. Robin was uncomfortably aware that there was nowhere to run to. Not that he could technically outrun someone who could teleport, but sometimes you just wanted the option to at least try and fail.

"And... and look, those scratchmarks, they look pretty rodential to me," he babbled, pointing out

She looked without interest. "If you say so. You're acting pretty... upset, Robin."

"Upset? Nooo, I'm not upset. I'm just thinking about how to take care of our... rat... problem..."

"Robin?"

"Yes, Raven?"

"We do still have an empathic link, you know."

"...oh." But he still retained a tiny sliver of hope. So she could feel he was lying, sense his emotions, fine. That didn't mean she knew about the newspaper articles! No, he'd just be careful what he said and everything would be fine. He grinned a big cheesy grin. "Okay, you caught me. I just wanted to get away from you guys for a little while. It's all kind of... _stressful_," he said with great care, "all this hovering around me and doing for me whatever it is I want to do myself."

"Well, we'd hate to cause you stress," she said evenly. "Should I just leave you alone here, then?"

"Yes, please. I'd really appreciate it."

"In this inhospitable, uncomfortable basement, all by yourself?"

"Y-yeah..."

"You'll probably get bored, though. I don't suppose you brought along any activities?"

"Activities?" Even to Robin, his voice sounded like a squeaky nervous chirp. It was bad when your mental image of yourself was a quivering, flightless robin with the shadow of a cat mid-pounce looming up all around.

"You know. Something to do so you won't be bored all by yourself. Something to read, maybe?"

The little robin-bird in Robin's head exploded in a storm of feathers as the last thin thread of hope snapped.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you," he grumbled.

"Maybe a little," she admitted with the faintest bit of a smile at the edges of her lips. "You can give the clippings to me, or I can take them. It's your choice."

_...young man..._ Robin's own inner thoughts added irrepressibly.

He stared. "You really can sound incredibly motherly when you want to, you know," he commented, digging out the thin paper squares and handing them to her.

The laws of reality temporarily suspended themselves long enough for Raven to blush faintly at the compliment. Robin suspected that none of the team would ever get used to seeing than any more than Raven would get used to blushing. It wasn't a once in a blue moon event because blue moons were more _common_. "Thanks. I've had practice."

"I actually wanted to talk to you for another reason," she continued as they walked back up the stairs together to a more comfortable towerly locale. "I'm not going to be like the others, expecting impossible things to happen to keep you safe. We can adjust to reality together, and some things will have to change, but some things can stay the same, too."

"Oh. Well. Thanks, Raven, it's great to hear that." Robin, against all instincts, allowed himself to feel at ease. Maybe he wasn't going to be punished for the secret newspaper article thing (and nevermind that technically the leader couldn't be punished by a subordinate... a _lot_ of technically impossible things happened with the Titans on a daily basis). She certainly wasn't suffocating him with attention like the others were. Maybe Raven would, ironically, turn out to be the big softie! He needed a softie on his side! _Starfire_ certainly wasn't filling that role at the moment.

"For instance, we're still going to have to yell, from time to time, to make ourselves heard over the noise of combat. Physics aren't ignorable. Except," she added hastily, "if you have physics-ignoring magical powers, but let's not get into that right now."

"Okay," he agreed, a little less amiable, a little more cautious now. What was she leading up to? It couldn't be anything good. Nothing the other Titans had thought up since his heart attack had been good, in his opinion.

"With any one yell the strain is negligible. But where my concern lies is that you've gotten into the habit of yelling over and over again, in times of emotional duress as well as when it's necessary to make yourself heard. I think we need to deprive you of that habit for a while so you can understand the purpose of yelling, and not abuse it unnecessarily to lead to unintended physical side effects. From now on, whenever you want to yell at somebody, tell me and I'll yell at them for you."

Feeling like he was in a dream world, Robin listened, understood, and yet _still_ did not understand. _Raven_ was lecturing him on not yelling to express emotion? RAVEN? RAVEN?! Which episode of _the Twilight Zone_ had he stepped into ever since that stupid Plasmus fight?! The hypocrisy was simply unbearable.

"You're telling me that I need to only yell when I have to, when you yell at Beast Boy all the time whenever he does something you don't like!"

"Lower your voice," she more or less ordered him, and he clamped his mouth shut so hard he bit the inside of his cheek. "_I_ yell whenever I want to, because _I_ haven't had a heart attack."

And that was the problem, as far as Robin was concerned. No one had had a heart attack but him. That was the one inescapable fact they always came back to to defend themselves with, and the worst of it was he simply couldn't think of a defense. Unless he wanted to deliberately inject them with heart attack-causing chemicals.

But he wasn't that desperate.

Yet.

"Yet," he growled lowly underneath his breath, unaware that he'd said it aloud.

"What was that?"

_...young man..._  
"Nothing!" he blurted.

_...mom..._

He _almost_ said that part, too. God help him if Raven and Batman ever got in the same room together and had a conversation about him.

"...can I still sort through the clippings if I get someone to help me?" he asked her pleadingly.

"Maybe. We'll have dinner first, and then we'll see."

"Yes ma'_uh_," he stopped himself just barely in time, narrowly escaping from calling her ma'am.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Cyborg and Starfire were busy being amazed with the flood of fanmail Robin had been getting recently. Sorting the mail seemed almost unnecessary. Almost all of it was for Robin, and most of what was left was addressed to the Titans in general with Robin being the centerpiece of the message. Still, they sorted, mostly because with Robin out of commission, _someone_ had to be the OCD one, and it might as well be the two of them.

Starfire was having a little more trouble with the task than Cyborg.

"I do not understand why so many of your Earth women persist in sending my Robin the hearts made of candy and chocolate," she said finally, mouth tight and eyes narrow. "I have been told that such things are signs of romantic affection, yet they must all know that Robin is no longer unpartnered! Our relationship of physical and emotional intimacy has been reported in one hundred and fifty-seven separate magazines in the language of English, as well as in fifty-eight papers of the news!" She knew, because she was subscribed to a 'RobxStar 4evah' mailing list that told her these things so that she could order the relevant issues.

Cyborg backed away just a little bit. If she decided to vent her frustration physically with an emphatic gesture or flailing of limbs, she could easily decapitate him without realizing he was there. Again.

"Look, they're just silly kids who don't get the concept of a serious relationship," he explained cautiously. "They see a hot, heroic guy, and they can't help but want him, that's all."

She melted a particularly large box of chocolates into burnt cardboard and brown ooze without seeming to realize it.

"It is most dishonorable! Were we on Tamaran, I would challenge them to a duel of _klughflugh_ and fight until their intestines covered the arena floor!"

That was actually the least graphic of the threats of violence Cyborg had so far heard spill from the 'innocent' and 'peaceful' alien's mouth. It would probably have been even worse if he'd been able to understand Tamaranian. There was one word she kept using that sounded like bubbling phlegm that he very strongly suspected to be the Tamaranian equivalent of 'slut.' This was turning into a pretty scary day to be close to Starfire, all things considered. And she was supposed to be the _nice_ one in their group dynamic!

The telltale swoosh of air at his back without any logical reason why it should occur was a sign that they had a visitor.

"Hey, KF," he said goodnaturedly without turning around from his task. They were all used to the speedster's little random visits by now. He pretty much went wherever he wanted. As far as Cyborg was concerned, he was basically a more efficient, more eloquent Beast Boy.

Kid Flash leaned in between the two of them, peering at the small tower of mail. "Wow. That's a lotta letters."

"Yep," Cyborg answered noncommitally.

"And cards. And flowers. And candy. And little plushies with balloons."

"Indeed," Starfire said, 'accidentally' destroying most of it in her 'sorting' efforts.

"So... what's up, guys?"

It was an unspoken rule that whenever someone asked that question and there was any Titan other than Starfire was in the room, it was the duty of the non-Starfire person to answer it to keep the potential angst and conflict to a minimum. Cyborg was pretty used to breaking the news anyway (calling Bee's team, and telling them to stop laughing or he'd kick their butts, had been one of the first things he'd done).

"Well, Robin had a stress-induced heart attack. He's okay but he's gonna have to take it easy for a while."

Kid Flash had the reaction that most people had to this revelation, which was to start laughing. "Wh-what! Hahahahah! D-dude, you _can't_... hahah... be _serious_..."

Unfortunately for Kid Flash, he was just the first person to happen to be stupid enough to do this while in the same room with Starfire. Cyborg had been more than ready to smack him one on general principle, but before he'd even lifted a finger, Starfire's arm blurred in motion, and Kid Flash found himself on the other side of the room, dented slightly into plaster. She hadn't even looked up from the mail; it had been a completely absentminded backhanded gesture. Good luck to anyone who made her mad when she was _paying attention_ to them.

"Ow..." he murmured, shaking his head and wincing.

"While I am aware that the circumstance of Robin's injury are unusual, this does not mean it is appropriate to make light of the situation," Starfire murmured, eyes darting through presents like squirrels through a pile of nuts, intent on not missing anything else inappropriate for a very thoroughly mated Robin (she prefered this word over 'attached' or anything equivalent but less, to her Tamaranian point of view, meaningful, but had stopped using the term outside of her head upon realizing that it provoked a great many strange Looks).

Kid Flash mumbled something about borrowing bandaids and maybe some ointment and, wisely, took off.

"Uh, try to remember how strong you are compared to a regular human, star," Cyborg reminded her with utmost caution. "He totally deserved a whack but now I've gotta repair the wall, and the wall didn't deserve that."

She looked up in distress to survey the damage. "Oh no! I am truly sorry, friend Cyborg, I was greatly distracted in attempting to decipher a particular card and was not paying one hundred percent of my attention to my chiding of the Kid Flash! Please forgive me. I will apologize to him as well, when he slows down sufficiently for me to do so."

Cyborg chuckled and nodded agreeably, leaning down to peer at the card she'd been puzzling over. It was open, so he couldn't see the cover, but there were plenty of generic flowers and birds and things on the inside. There was also a short message, scribbled in a cursive so neatly legible that it practically burned itself into Cyborg's brain.

_Robin,_

_Condolences on the heart attack. Try to take it a little easier; it's not a race to see who martyrs himself first. A will be sending some of your favorite cookies once the ingredients have arrived from Britain._

_Yours,_

_B_

A small symbol was drawn with almost mathematical precision below the 'signature,' a bat's outline in an oval. Cyborg's non-mechanical eye widened in realization.

"This is from Batman, Star! You know, that scary famous mentor guy Robin never talks about because they had 'issues?'"

Her brow furrowed. "The Batman, the renowned for his competence hero of great superness who dwells within Gotham and its peculiar red atmosphere?"

"That's right."

"The Batman who taught Robin for many years how to be Robin?"

"Yep!"

"Then why does he only send a small piece of paper with two sentences on it, instead of visiting personally to offer his great and sorrowful condolences?!"

Starfire's eyes flared up, and Cyborg carefully sidestepped out of the line of fire in case of technical difficulties in Tamaranian firing mechanisms.

"Well, you see Star, they haven't been really close, ya know, and..." Even as he was saying it, he knew no excuse would be sufficient to appease Robin's self-righteous girlfriend, full wroth in wrath... or however that line went.

"This is unacceptable! Robin has endured many dangers and trials without the help of this so-called 'the Batman,' and I have been most tolerant, but now our brave leader has come the breadth of a hair from the very aperture of entropy and all this 'the Batman' sends us is a mere _card_?! Even the lowliest of our fans have done better than that! Even our _foes_! The wicked musician Punk Rocket has sent us frosted confectionary miniaturized guitars adorned with smiley faces! ...they are most likely poisonous, of course, but nonetheless my point is made most strongly!"

"I'm sure he was just tryin' to be sensitive, Star, and didn't want to barge in when Robin wouldn't be sure how to react and all-"

"No! This is NOT within the bounds of courteous behavior between mentor and protege! Friend Cyborg... which direction is the city of Gotham from here?"

"Err. That way, I think," Cyborg hazarded a guess, pointing out the window.

"Very well. I shall be away for only a little while. Please tend to Robin's needs while I retrieve a properly apologetic and sympathetic 'the Batman.'"

And with that, Starfire calmly opened the window, and took off through the air at a sudden speed that made Cyborg's ears pop. He was left staring out at the sky, already empty of her swift-traveling form. It was easy to forget that Tamaranians were capable of levels of flying speeds more than adequate for space travel when they felt the need.

He turned around, trying to figure out exactly how big of a mess this was going to be and how on Earth he was gonna break the news to Robin, and saw Kid Flash's fiery hair and one paranoid eye peeking from out behind a corner.

"It's okay, man," he said sympathetically. "You can come out now. She's gone."

Kid Flash heaved a sigh of relief, and actually walked over to him at a normal sub-superhuman pace for the first time ever, which was, more than anything else, a telltale sign of how badly Star had scared him.

"Where'd she run... well, fly... off to, anyway?"

"I think she's gone to beat up Batman."

"...really?"

"Yeah."

There was only one appropriate response to this, as far as Kid Flash was concerned. "Awesome."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Can I play?"

This was, right off the bat, odd behavior from Beast Boy. He didn't _ask_ to play. He just sat down and grabbed a spare controller... or one currently in use by someone else. He took it for granted that he was welcome in a game, just like he took so much else for granted. To be fair, he also welcomed anyone and everyone else in similar fashion, so it wasn't like he didn't let it work both ways. But to some people, his assumptions could be grating.

Cyborg was, however, _not_ one of those people, and so Cyborg was a little weirded out.

"Uh, sure," was the best reply he managed, giving his best bud a look before turning back to the screen, where slimy aliens were busy exploding with unrealistic but aesthetically satisfying force. A single light punch basically sent an enemy's liver flying to the opposite side of the screen. It was, as Starfire would have said, glorious.

Cyborg had expected Beast Boy to put them into death match mode, where the players had the adrenaline-pumping experience of fighting each other and ginormous clawed monsters at the same time. Instead, Beast Boy joined in cooperative mode, which was definitely a first for that particular player and this particular game. Instead of fighting each other, they stood back up back and reduced hostiles to a fine red paste together.

"This is just like a real life mission, isn't it?" Beast Boy commented after a couple minutes, while Cyborg was busy trying to figure out what kind of prank this had to be. "We're totally backing each other up. Oh, dude, there's a flamethrower powerup! AWESOME! ...you can have it," he offered with shocking mildness after his excited outburst.

Shrugging, Cyborg wasted no time in grabbing Beast Boy's second favorite powerup, which enabled him to roast foes to black crispy corpses that crunched pleasingly when stepped on and provided a rather enjoyable visual to contrast the redder-than-red bloody parts. The flamethrower was a great weapon to keep you safe, as it could be fired in a continuous spray, leaving you without any vulnerable reload time. It was no surprise when Beast Boy died while reloading after that, and Cyborg, feeling strangely guilty about it, took to protecting the little guy during all future reload periods. He hadn't bothered the first time because he'd expected Beast Boy to use a cheat code to get unkillable, but for some reason BB wasn't doing it this time, as much as he groaned in melodramatic despair every time an alien got past his defenses. They'd beaten it so much that cheating didn't really feel like cheating, so it wasn't like Cyborg would object.

"Why don't you just enter a cheat, man?" Cyborg asked finally, after Beast Boy touchingly blew himself up along with about twenty aliens with the rocket launcher so Cyborg didn't get swarmed to death.

"'Cause then I wouldn't get to cry 'Nooooooooo!!!!' and fall over and stuff?" Beast Boy replied after panting enough to regain breath from his shout-and-collapse maneuver.

"But you're dead," Cyborg pointed out.

"I know."

"Dead, dead. As in, you have no more lives!"

"I know, dude, it's cool. You go on playin, I'll just watch."

And _this_ well nigh miraculous statement, Cyborg decided, was well worth pausing the game over.

"Is anything wrong, BB?" he asked his friend seriously, looking him over for signs of demonic brainwashing fleas or anything else suspicious. "You know you can tell me if something's up, right?"

"Everything's fine, Cy! Besides, you know, Robin's heart stuff and all."

The fanged grin _looked_ normal enough. The eyes weren't glazed. No visible parasites. Cyborg mandated himself to chill out and stop being suspicious, just because his buddy felt like being unusually nice for a day. Maybe he was trying to make up for that last Moist Chewing Gum In Unexpected Places prank. Yeah, that was probably all it was, by one half-metal man's reckoning.

"Alright, man, sorry to prod. Just makin' sure."

"Right. I really appreciate it, too," Beast Boy responded with matching seriouness that had Cyborg unnerved again. "It's just that kinda stuff that makes us best friends. You might even say... _beast_ friends, hahah! Get it?"

It was corny enough to gag anyone to death, but awful humor was at least familiar ground for Cyborg when dealing with the changeling. He smirked and rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna go workout some now. Maybe Robin'll feel better about not yelling at me if he doesn't see me being lazy so much."

"Wow. That's really thoughtful of you, man. I'm proud of ya."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh, and Cy?" Beast Boy asked just before he was out of the room.

"Mmhmm?"

"I love you," he said said with an utterly straight face. "Guys aren't s'posed to say it to other guys, I know, but I really do."

Cyborg nodded, smile fixed in place as though it had been carved there. As soon as Beast Boy was out of the room, he let his head drop down into his hands, moaning.

"I always thought it'd be _Robin_ who'd turn out to be the gay one," he sobbed to himself quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

This is Gotham, a bustling but grim city of smog-stained baroque architecture. For those of you who are unaware, baroque basically means they made the building like a wedding cake: adding lots and lots of needlessly fancy details to distract viewers from how proportionately empty and hollow the responsible party's soul is. Gotham's buildings have a great many unnecessary details on them. Some of the gargoyles crouch on top of more gargoyles.

This is Gotham's skyline, long since polluted to a uniquely suspicious shade of red that makes it difficult to not think about how many people die in the city's alleyways every night. Nonetheless, most of Gotham's residents manage. To live in Gotham you have to be really quite good at lying to yourself, which is much harder than lying to other people.

This is Starfire, flying through Gotham's skyline and sticking out like the sorest thumb you ever saw.

Her flight had been quick and relatively uneventful, with no mundane civilians to bear witness to the purple and orange streak in the sky save a particularly unfortunate flock of geese. When a righteously furious, super-strong, interstellar-speed-flying girlfriend is traveling from point A to point C, it is unwise to be in point B. The geese were lucky to survive with only significant feather loss. It would all grow back. Eventually. In the meantime, future bored children staring out airplane windows would be delighted to point out half-naked migrating birdies, causing overly protective mothers to hastily yank down the window curtains.

Our heroine is not, contrary to Cyborg's earlier statement, here to beat up 'the Batman.' Oh, no, that would be unthinkably rude behavior! No, she is merely here to persuade the famous superhero to fulfill his proper role as mentor and substitute father to poor fragile, suffering Robin with blatant displays of sentimentality and affection. And if she happens to have to use her fists to persuade him because he's too foolish to listen to plain and simple reason and common sense, well, that isn't really her fault, now is it?

She doesn't particularly hope things will come to violence. She just doesn't care if they do. This tells you a great deal about her character as a warrior, which is easy to overlook in face of the facts that she is also an adorably friendly, openhearted, and exotically foreign hottie. One has to constantly remind oneself that while she spends a lot of time being cute and hugging people too strongly, she also spends an equal amount of time beating the crap out of things.

Like Batman, if he wasn't careful.

Batman is, however, almost always careful, and this is why he knows that Starfire in Gotham and looking for him almost the moment she arrives. Of course, it could also have something to do with the fact that she her idea of finding Batman was to fly around the city, yelling the following at a volume fit to cover an block even in a city as busy as Gotham:

"Will the Batman come out, please, as I have a matter of much urgency to discuss with you immediately! And if you does not, I will be forced to beat up all of the criminals for you until you have nothing else to do but speak with me!'

This is Batman, sitting in his lair, caught up in an internal conflict between self-preservative paranoia and outraged pride. Gotham was _his_ turf. No one did any crimefighting here without his explicit approval! Except for the Flashes, who were honestly impossible to catch without significant forewarning. And Superman, who was the same, just even more annoying. And the Question, who matched Batman for paranoia. And Zatanna, who had never technically asked for his approval. And Plastic Man.

Alright, this was pissing him off.

Batman was more aware than anyone else that he depended on his reputation as a shield in lieu of having protective superpowers. Instead of being actually invincible, he made people _think_ he was. The fear and respect accorded to him by criminals and heroes alike were a flimsy substitute for not being more than human except when it came to the average human's stock of obsessive determination. If he lost that terrible and terrifying image of unstoppable doom in the eyes of the public, he was a goner. This meant that even fellow heroic vigilantes had to treat him with a certain bare aminimum of respect that Starfire was simply not giving him. Batman being called out like a misbehaving, hiding child by its mother was _not_ the sort of thing he wanted to linger on the newspapers.

On the other hand, she was unquestionably fully capable of inflicting horrible injury on him with little effort. She was strong, fast, a flier, extraordinarily invulnerable, and had ranged energy missiles. All this with no convenient immediate weakness like kryptonite, a mineral Batman had learned to greatly appreciate. She seemed quite angry with him. If he went out there, he'd be putting himself in a position where he'd lose if she decided to use force. On the other hand, if he _didn't_ go out there, he'd be the laughing stock of Gotham if she didn't give up quickly.

This left him with basically two options, and both of them were underhanded and mean. But that was Batman for you. He was quite well-adjusted to his own sociopathy and used it for the most productive and humanitarian of ends. His options were basically thus:

Suckerpunch her _now_.

Or:

Suckerpunch her _later_.

There were no tactical decisions to be made that did not involve either a physical or a psychological suckerpunch. Starfire simply presented too strong, too loud, and too direct an obstacle for him to 'play nice.' Robin would probably end up resenting it, but that would just be another crocodile in the moat that was between them at this point.

Well, there was the chance that it wasn't as bad as he thought. Perhaps he could just speak to her as a respectful and mature superhero to another respectful and mature superhero, and persuade her to Get Out Of His Goddamned City. Anything was possible.

A glance at a local news update showed Starfire hijacking the Bat Signal from the police in hopes that, like a moth, Batman came whenever the thing was lit regardless of the consequences. The police were not happy campers.

And so three and a half minutes later, Batman was staring the Tamaranian down in an alley that he had lured her into, hiding behind his back a small, very expensive one-use laser pistol that was guaranteed to knock anyone out for hours at a time. Of course, it hadn't been tested on anything stronger than Killer Croc so far. And despite her petite form, Starfire appeared to be significantly stronger than Killer Croc. The fact that she was still casually holding the Bat Signal in one hand was kind of a big clue.

"I gave that to the police for their express use in criminal emergencies," he opened coldly from one of the omnipresent Gotham alleyway shadows. "_Not_ to be used as a toy by self-involved aliens."

She set the light down with ludicrous delicacy (considering how forcefully she had ripped it from its mounting on the police building rooftop) on the urine and rainwater-soaked pavement, giving it a little pat as though it were a pet that had performed a cute trick. Batman couldn't help but notice that the 'little pat' left dents in the metal that Starfire seemed oblivious to.

Five seconds close to her and he was already beginning to suspect why Robin had had a heart attack.

"My motivation for luring you to me are entirely unselfish, I assure you, the Batman."

Despite himself, he rather appreciated the 'the' in front of his name. Little touches like that counted for one's reputation. Style and poise counted for a lot in this business.

"Then explain, and do it quickly." He narrowed his white-masked eyes in a way that he happened to know was very intimidating when done from otherwise concealing shadow. One unusually articulate mugger had even called it Boogieman-esque. "Every moment I'm wasting time talking to you is a moment I'm not spending saving people's lives."

She swallowed, and he was glad to see that she was at least not completely immune to intimidation, at least when it was enabled by guilt. "I apologize for intruding upon your territory so plainly, the Batman, but our brave leader Robin is, as you know, recovering from a malady of the heart caused by great strain."

"I'm aware. I sent a card."

She smashed a suddenly glowing first into a wall. One brick flew off and almost hit Batman in the head. He ducked it, but ducking was in and of itself an undignified, unscary activity and he was annoyed for having to do it. "A CARD IS NOT SUFFICIENT!"

His fingers tightened comfortingly on the laser pistol that... suddenly was not there. He was gripping empty space. Understandably alarmed, he whipped around, to find himself staring at one of his least favorite sights in the universe: a grinning member of the Flash family. Specifically, Kid Flash.

The little brat was twirling the laster pistol on a finger. Fortunately the safety was on.

"I gotta say, I kinda agree with Star on this one," Kid Flash said with a cheeriness that, along with his bright yellow suit, was utterly out of place in Gotham. Sandwiched between two people who were about as appropriate to the locale as a beef roast at a vegetarian feast, Batman felt unusually vulnerable. He was the sort of person scared more by _Dance Dance Revolution_ than gunshot wounds. "The poor guy works hard for years, saves the world umpteen times, and now almost dies... and you send him a freakin' _card_? That's cold, man. Totally cold. I dunno how messed up you are behind that mask, but I'm pretty sure you can do better than that. C'mon, give the kid some love! Go toss the ball with him at the park, or something!"

The feeling of being vulnerable was rapidly progressing into disbelief and surrealness. It was as though suddenly Clayface decided he wanted to be a potato farmer instead of a crook. Batman just didn't know how to react. These were people he couldn't frighten, and certainly couldn't overpower, but they were just _kids_!

Starfire explained at great and icily politely length to 'the' Batman about exactly how hard Robin had worked for the good of Jump City and the world for the past few years, how wonderful a person he was, and how much he meant to her personally (something that Batman already knew despite not having had significant personal communication with any member of the Titans since Robin had started the team, a fact we will cheerfully ignore the creepiness of). And also how Kid Flash had caught up with her halfway through her flight to Gotham and how they'd come to an agreement that it was important for Robin to feel as cared for and unstressed as possible. Throughout all this, Batman got the distinct impression that they were unaware of the fact that he was, in fact, doing his very best to do this for Robin as it was.

No, they couldn't possibly begin to understand that being in the same room with his former protege would make both of them incredibly uncomfortable and on edge. As far as these two were concerned, a group hug and a sappy speech would Fix Everything.

Batman was actually a little scared that he might be forced to go through with it.

There was no question that he could have taken care of either one of them alone, at least sufficiently enough to run away in a dignified 'I am the night!' fashion. But both of them together was... inconvenient. Physical confrontation, even by way of surprise ambush, was no longer an option. That left psychology. And yet, the more he talked to them, abandoning his death-in-a-cowl-glaring-from-a-shadow demeanour for frank discourse, the more it became clear to him that their one-track minds would not be bargained or bullied away from their current goal through anything short of direct mind control. Despite being human and cheerfully sympathetic, Kid Flash was just as bad as Starfire. He had wondered what kind of person could get a hardcore criminal like Jinx to change sides just by flirting with her over a period of time less than a week, and now he knew. These were people who didn't let go easily. Or, possibly, at all, when it came to topics such as the care of the ultimate leader of all the Titans. Starfire's motivations were obvious. Kid Flash's, less so. Perhaps he was trying to score brownie points in the worst way possible. Or, rather more likely, he was just doing it for a lark, a random impulse that he'd cheerfully take to the very end for lack of anything better to do. Super-fast heroes had freer schedules than most, and that tended to give them strong predilections for keeping themselves occupied with whatever came to hand or mind at any given moment. It was a kind of psychological defense against depression via boredom, really. Batman privately concealed a slight hatred for any superhero powerful enough to have the time to be bored, and it was only in his bed, trying to fall asleep (usually to dream of smashing in the Joker's face repeatedly with various blunt objects), that he admitted that the feeling was rooted in envy.

And so only left with his most dishonorable and sneaky of tactics, Batman agreed to meet with Robin... briefly! Giving in temporarily was absolutely the only way to keep his dignity at this point. It was just by the grace of God that he managed to convince Starfire that the best way for him to travel would be in the Batwing, as opposed to carried over her shoulder. Both Kid Flash and Starfire were more than eager (and on Kid Flash's part, irritatingly amused) to accept what amounted to his surrender to the forces of light and hugs, seemingly a little relieved that he wasn't going to do anything dark and horribly Batmany to them.

And that was why they were caught completely off guard when he ordered the Batwing to turn its weapons systems on them, knocking them out in a matter of seconds.

What?

He was _Batman_! (Lightning crash!)

No one bullied _Batman_ ('nother lightning crash!) into leaving Gotham for a sick visit with someone he couldn't stand being in the same room with! Fine, so he lied to them, but after they'd strongarmed him so blatantly all bets on fair play were off. That kind of superhuman oppression of the human (even if he tried so very hard to hide it) simply could not be allowed, it was bad precedent. Someone had to teach them a little humility, since Robin clearly wasn't.

His antagonists were tossed unceremoniously into the Batwing, which was ordered to fly to Jump City and drop them off before returning to Gotham. Overall, Batman was more than satisfied with the outcome. They had come thinking to drag him back to Gotham, and instead he was sending them home with their metaphorical tails between their legs. If he was fortunate, the newspapers would note this without him having to bribe any editors. But he did take the rest of the day off from crimefighting to plan out his defenses for further unwanted uncursions by Titans with unrealistic ideas of social reconciliation. He knew they would be back.

And they'd be pissed.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Hey, um, Raven... can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure. What's up?"

It is important to note that should Beast Boy have asked her the exact same thing, he would have gotten the exact opposite answer. This is because, while Cyborg and Beast Boy share many traits, one crucial difference between them is that Cyborg respects people's boundaries, whereas Beast Boy... violates them in as many ways as are possible. And so, however loud, boisterous, and cheerful Cyborg was, Raven never minded spending time with him. She did not so much enjoy all these things about them as tolerate them with the amused, condescending affection an older sibling shows to a younger one (despite the fact that Cyborg is, in fact, the older one of the two). Today, though, was the day Raven would be destined to rethink how comfortable she allowed herself to be around the mechanized man. Because Azar knows, you never want anyone to be so relaxed around you that they tell you _everything_ that's on their minds.

"It's about Beast Boy," Cyborg continued, looking from side to side and huddling up against her as if he was afraid of being caught.

"You are not opening this conversation in a good way." The response was automatic, reflexive, devoid of forethought. Raven simply had no other way to deal with the concept of Beast Boy as a person that didn't involve physical violence. It wasn't personal, except that it really pretty much was.

"This isn't the time for jokin' around, Raven. Please, can we talk about this seriously?"

This had our dear reclusive bookworm at a disadvantage, and she paused to muse over it. With her primary mental shield against Beast Boy's Beast Boyness removed, there really wasn't anything left in her arsenal save for four-eyed tentacley doom that she was instinctively used to resorting to. Well, sometimes you just had to wing it, much as she loathed the concept. And so she did her very best to calm her mind and prepare herself for whatever insanity she knew she was destined to sit through. There was never even a flicker of a thought that maybe it _wouldn't_ be something wacky, or zany, or nutty. No, the only proper genre for any conversation involving Beast Boy was always that of sitcom comedy.

Raven has been very good at mentally blocking out those rare moments when Beast Boy actually has had some serious growth and shown significant depth as a person. She was the sort of person who would have resided in Gotham quite comfortably. This is not entirely a downside to her character, because Beast Boy pretty much tries to forget those times too. Both of them are uncomfortable with those moments for rather similar reasons.

"Alright, I'm listening." _Tell me what's wrong with him this time, _she almost said, but didn't, taking a large sip of her tea instead to drown the half-formed sentence.

Cyborg looked around again, and then shuffled even closer, to the point of violating her personal space. He actually leaned up to her ear to whisper in it.

"_I think he's gay for me,_" Cyborg whispered in a tiny, tiny voice.

And that is what caused Raven to inadvertently perform her first ever spit take.

Our African American chum was not especially put out by having a shoulder soaked in chamomile tea. It was understandable, and he had bigger worries on his mind. Like intense and lingering fear of butt sex, which was pretty much the only thing that came to mind whenever he thought about gay people. That's not to say he was homophobic, he merely liked his gay people not quite as _close_ to him as Beast Boy usually was. It was, in his mind, a short distance from Beast Boy using him as a vehicle by perching on his shoulder to using him for other kinds of rides that did not bear thinking about.

It is perhaps forgivable that no longer having a penis has made Cyborg extraordinarily touchy about his sexuality.

"This has _got_ to be some kind of idiotic misunderstanding," Raven said when she stopped coughing and got her thoughts into some semblance of working order. She was very good at semblances. "You two have been friends for years!"

"Yeah, and we've always been... so... _close_..." Cyborg whimpered.

"Close, without making any overt romantic gestures towards each other," Raven pointed out sensibly. "And he clearly liked Terra, and he's flirting with girls all the time. So what makes you think he's gay now? Even if he is attracted to guys, wouldn't that just mean he's bisexual?" She was dealing with this the only way she knew how, in clinical, scientific sex education teacher fashion. Nevermind that it was hard to not giggle when Cyborg was freaking out over what was more than likely just an issue of miscommunication.

"He's been really nice to me lately!"

"He's just following the doctor's orders. We're not supposed to fight or argue, remember?"

"But, I mean, _really_ nice! Beyond the call of duty!"

"Well, maybe he just wants you to know he appreciates your company."

"And... and yesterday, he told me he _loved_ me!" Cyborg wailed, almost in tears. "I can't do it, Raven, I really can't! If I were gay for anyone I'd be gay for my little green buddy but I'm not, I'm not, I swear!"

Her friend's drama act was ignored in Raven's mind for a rather shocked focus on the more relevant statement. _He told me he loved me._ That made her feel quite oddly tight and breathless inside, as though she were watching a deer drink water and didn't want to scare it. It was so... so unBeast Boy-like. She was incredibly impressed that he'd opened himself up that much. And rather less impressed with Cyborg for taking it so wrongly, the big baby.

"So you mean, like, he did that thing where two guys hug in a manly way and go 'I love you, man?'" she inquired, vaguely aware of how male bonding went from random television episodes. Most of her books seemed to prefer blood brother ceremonies, but modern men clearly avoided anything that could be construed as a similarity to womanly self-cutting issues. Pride was the thing. If they admitted to feelings, they had to _joke_ about it. All men were so proud, it was stupid. Please take note, gentle readers, that Raven does not notice any hypocrisy in this thought. To Raven, she is never proud, she is only right.

"NO!" he yelled, clutching vaguely at her shoulders while the remains of her tea began to stain his shiny metal thoroughly. "It wasn't like that! There was no 'man' at the end of it! Just I love you!"

"Does that make a difference?" she asked, confused.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA!"

She took a careful step back, wiping his spittle off her with carefully controlled distaste. "Okay. Um, I'm kind of out of my element here, with... feelings. And things. Isn't there anyone else you could talk to about this? I mean, I know you can't talk to Robin about it right now, but maybe... I don't know, Starfire? ...where is she, anyway? I haven't seen her lately." And that was worrying. Starfire was, like Beast Boy, the kind of person you didn't want to let out of your sight for overly long periods of time, or inevitably something weird would start happening. On the other hand, things were already pretty weird, and Raven was feeling amiably stoic about it all. Heart attack-suffering Robin, potentially bisexual or homosexual Beast Boy, why not. If there was more, bring it on, she could take it.

"She left yesterday to drag Batman over here for a makeup party with Robin, I think."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're sure about this?"

"Pretty sure. She got dumped back on our island along with Kid Flash by Batman's airplane a few hours ago, but they just grumbled a lot and ran right off to Gotham again." He had distinctly heard Kid Flash swearing, and it was probable that a lot of Starfire's Tamaranian had been profane but he hadn't dared get close enough to ask, as mad as they both had looked. Cyborg had enough on his plate as it was. Too much to eat, in fact. Oh God, there was another metaphor that could be perverted to horrible horrible mental images that he didn't want! It was time to consider reformatting his brain. Maybe installing Linux.

This left poor Raven without any outs. Her brain ran in circles. She didn't really want to deal with this, and frankly didn't know _how_ to deal with this.

However, she knew where they could _find_ someone who knew how to deal with this....

"Okay, Cyborg," she said firmly. "Get a grip. I want you to look me in the eyes, take a deep breah, and calmly promise me that whatever Beast Boy's sexuality turns out to be, it will not affect the team adversely."

"I... I promise... that whatever Beast Boy's... _sexuality_... erp... turns out to be... I won't let it affect the team... _adversely_," he finished with painful effort, looking like he'd just run a marathon.

"Good." She nodded with satisfaction. "And now we're going to the library."

"...the library?"

"The library," she confirmed.

Several hours later, they checked out the following books:

_Changing Bodies, Changing Lives: Expanded Third Edition: A Book for Teens on Sex and Relationships_

_S.E.X.: The All-You-Need-To-Know Progressive Sexuality Guide to Get You Through High School and College_

_The Guy Book: An Owner's Manual_

_My Child Is Gay: How Parents React When They Hear the News_

_GLBTQ: The Survival Guide for Queer and Questioning Teens_

_The Gay Teen: Educational Practice and Theory for Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual Adolescents_

_Virginity: A Positive Approach to Celibacy for the Sake of the Kingdom of Heaven_ (at Cyborg's insistence)

_Love, Honor & Respect: How to Confront Homosexual Bias and Violence in Christian Culture _(at Raven's insistence)

The librarian at the counter gave them a prolonged stare, right up until Raven stared back with an extra set of eyes. The rest of the checkout went smoothly.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

As another day dawns in the tower, Robin is enjoying an exceptionally peaceful and friendly breakfast.

"You want s'more cinnamon on your French toast?"

"That's okay."

"How about your crusts cut?"

"I like the crusts, actually."

"I'll warm up the syrup for you."

"Uh, thanks, Raven."

Except he is not enjoying it so much as he is internally freaking out over it with a big smile on his face so no one will think he's freaking out over it. He'd gone from being in control of everything, to being in control of nothing. Not even his own breakfast. He didn't even know Starfire was, and whenever he asked they just shushed him with meaningless soothing babble and changed the subject! It was a conspiracy, that was what it was. Clearly, they were all in on it to get him... to get him...

To get him something or other!

He crunched one last stick of bacon and then set down his fork with a soft but meaningful clang. "So, guys, about Star..."

"It's okay, Robin, let us worry about Starifre. We know where she is, and she'll be back very soon, so-"

"Am I or am I not still the leader of this team?!" he snapped in aggravation.

"Of course you are, Robin!" all three of them chorused back at him.

A vein in Robin's forehead twitched. "Then how am I supposed to coordinate our activities for training and missions if I don't know where everyone is?"

"Starfire can fly fast enough to join us whenever we need her to, Robin," Raven explained patiently... almst suspiciously patiently, to Robin's eyes. But then, everything was suspicious to him lately. Could you blame him? "And with the homing function enabled she can get right to where we are without needing detailed instructions. We've been together for years and dealt with far more drastic situations easily."

He sighed and hung his head, staring at the syrupy crumbs left on his plate. "Okay. Yeah. I guess that makes sense. It's just that I'm not used to... um..."

"...not being in control?" Cyborg finished sympathetically.

Robin flushed. "Yeah. That."

"It's only temporary, buddy. Just a week or two, you can handle it. And afterwards it'll be just like normal, 'cept with a lil more fun and games time and a lil less working time."

Feeling unusually vulnerable without Starfire around for unknown reasons and with everything else in his life seemingly changing, Robin allowed himself a childish moment. "You promise?" he asked hesitantly, not daring to look into their eyes.

"We promise," Beast Boy said, giving a big thumbs up.

"Okay," he said with a relax in posture after glancing around at Raven and Cyborg. Maybe things would be okay after all. Maybe he was just overreacting and being silly. It wasn't like they were treating him like a baby or anything. "Um, Raven, can you let me out of my chair now? I appreciate that you're trying to keep me from possibly falling over and everything, but it's starting to get uncomfortable."

"No problem, Robin," she said smoothly, telekinetically moving him to another nearby, plushier chair and plumping the pillows for him. "That better?"

"Yyyeeaahhh," he said slowly, trying to decide if he actually wanted to be where she'd put him or not.

"Don't slouch, it's bad for your posture."

He grumbled but straightened up.

"And stop snickering and whispering behind my back," she added at Cyborg and Beast Boy, who immediately stepped away from each other and tried to look innocent. Cyborg and Beast Boy were, are, and always will be very bad at looking innocent (even when they _are_ innocent). "We don't Robin to think we're keeping secrets from him, now do we?"

They shook their heads mutely.

"So, Cy, you wanna go shopping with me later?" Beast Boy asked cheerfully. "I need your opinion on some moped models I was lookin' at. I mean, I won't be able to afford them for like a year, but still..."

For some reason Cyborg looked ill at ease. "Sorry, I've got stuff to do. Maybe tomorrow." Raven looked at him sharply, but Cyborg didn't seem to notice. In fact, he seemed a little too obviously unnoticing of it. Robin knew it had to be deliberate. They _were_ hiding things from him!

"Oh, okay. Robin, you've got a bike, do you wanna-"

The sound of the alarm rang out... except it was an incredibly soft, gentle, almost feminine tone now. He looked at Cyborg accusingly.

"I had it toned down so it wouldn't startle us or anything," Cyborg confessed with a sheepish grin.

Robin was examining an electronic map of the city in a flash. "Red X," he announced grimly. That annoying, flirtacious, oh so competent nemesis... he could hear the wisecracks already! "Robbing a pastry shop for some reason. Titans, go!"

"Ohhh, no," Cyborg said, grabbing his shoulder as he made to run off to his R-Cycle. "_We_ go. _You_ stay here."

"But I'm still the leaderrrr," Robin whined.

"Your heart's still weak and needs more time to recover, Robin," Raven said.

"Oh, come on! It's just Red X! It's not like it's... Slade, or Trigon, or anything! I'll be _fine_, I _promise_."

Faced with three adamant, stubborn faces, he did something he promised he'd never do.

He took off his mask, widened his eyes to pure innocence levels of wideness, and puppy dog pouted.

"Pleeeeaaaaaaaase?"

His caretakers exchanged glances. "Maybe he could just, like, stand back and watch?" Beast Boy suggested.

"Yes! I'll do that! I'll just... watch..." Robin said desperately, eager for any kind of excuse to get in on the action. He could apologize for breaking his word afterwards.

"You promise?" Cyborg asked pointedly.

"I promise," Robin lied with cheerful enthusiasm.

"Well... okay, then. But don't let his jokes and stuff get to you. You know how you get."

"I know."

"And you're not riding the R-Cycle either," Raven added. "Get in the T-Car. No, not the driver's seat! Not the suicide seat, either, that's the least-protected seat in the car. Get in the back."

He tried not to sulk on the way over.

They were doing all this for his own good, he knew. They meant well. They were just taking it way too far. All this paranoia was more likely to drive him into an early grave than anything else! Deep, even breaths. Like meditation. Don't think about anything stressful, like missing Starfire... or the currently crimespreeing Red X... or the still at large Slade... or the downspiraling economy... no, just look out the window and think happy thoughts, Robin. Happy thoughts, like all the exercising routines he enjoyed... and was no longer allowed to do. And how peaceful and spiritual it was to be the lone one awake before dawn... when he was no longer allowed to get up that early. And how so much nice, sympathetic mail had come in... albeit with large portions of it burnt.

Happy thoughts, Robin.

Happy thoughts.

Suddenly Rex X's face appeared upside down less than an inch away from his on the other side of the window, and Robin jumped. "AH!"

"_Little jumpy today, aren't we?_" Red X asked in his synthesized, perpetually laid-back voice. "_Let me take a load off you. Or a roof, anyway._" With that, he let loose with a needlessly complicated spinning, razrsharp X device that sliced through the roof once, twice, three times. The unattached metal flew away, leaving the wind to blow against four heroic heads with a crook hanging on to the trunk and looking cocky.

With a furious screech of tires, Cyborg parked the car in the fastest measurable unit of time, a New York second (which is the time it takes when the traffic light turns green till the car behind you blows its horn), hopping out and charging his cannon. "You are _dead_, X," he growled, plainly mortally offended by the damage to his metaphorical offspring.

"_Careful with that thing, you might hit Robin,_" Red X said snidely, ducking behimd Robin even as Robin was standing up, reaching for a utility belt that the other Titans had absconded from him (it was almost like they didn't _trust_ him to stay out of it or something!). "_I hear he's in a delicate condition lately._"

Robin ground his teeth as Cyborg actually backed down, trying to sidle around instead of trusting in Robin's own ability to dodge a projectile! This was ridiculous. "Just shoot, I'll be fine!"

"Remember the talk we had about yelling," Raven chided him, encompassing herself in black energy to phase straight through him. It was a sensation not unlike being raped by soggy oatmeal. "Why a pastry shop, X?" she asked the villain of the day, further annoying Robin by stealing his lines. "Of all the places to target..."

"_Have you TASTED their eclairs?_" X gestured to a dozen small white boxes bound together by a net that was, of course, a series of Xs joined together. "_My God. I would have PAID for them, the bakers really deserve it, that's how good they are. But you had to stop my last robbery so I had no money. Cycle of violence._"

"Get a job like a regular person!" Beast Boy suggested, turning into a chimpanzee to swing deftly towards the enemy. They had all learned what him turning into big, strong, clumsy animals accomplished around Red X (embarrassing things for Beast Boy and the rest of the team, that is).

That was the cue for the assault, no 'Titans, go!' being necessary from Robin. They were really good at fighting to keep X back from him, too, almost putting more energy into that than the rest of the fight, which only made things drag out longer, of course. They were never going to catch him playing so cautiously! There was no way the Titans' reputation could afford to let Red X escape again and again, it wasn't like the thief was some supercriminal mastermind like Slade! Still, he repressed the desire to give orders. The only chance he had was to let them all, including Red X, think he wasn't going to do anything... and then blindside the smoothtalking jerk with sudden violence.

"_So, where's the orange cutie?_" X inquired while dodging a stupendous number of attacks without seeming at all put out. Somehow he winded up casually sitting in the seat next to Robin, one arm resting casually on Robin's adjacent shoulder. Nothing was more insulting than being made to feel like furniture. "_Did she drop you because you were too fragile to keep up with her, ah, active lifestyle?_" Red X purred. Robin swore that behind the mask the thief was waggling his eyebrows.

A swing at X's endlessly-irritating visage was, of course, futile, but had to be attempted for the dignity of the thing. Robin was all set to charge properly and let loose with the compressed staff he had sneakily hidden in one shoe without the knowledge of his friends when...

His ears popped.

All of a sudden, Red X was facedown on the sidewalk, groaning, a single leg twitching in an unhealthy-looking way, while Starfire stood over him, both glaring and glowing from her eyes. Tamaranian eyes are great multitaskers. There was a small crater in the sidewalk where Starfire had apparently initially landed.

"I apologize for my tardiness," she told Robin with that uniquely Starfareish mixture of humility and warriorly fierceness, "but I see that I was not too late to put a halt to this miscreant's evildoing! And it appears my momentum was put to good use as well. Are you well, Robin?"

"Um... um... yeah, I'm great," he managed dazedly while she was hugging him (much, much, _much_ gentler than usual, which was actually kind of nice for a change). "Thanks for..." He could _not_ say 'rescuing me.' Even to his girlfriend, his superstrong alien girlfriend, his maculine pride simply wouldn't allow it. "...for doing your part. I just wish I'd known where you were, though..." he said meaningfully, trying to slip some information out of her that the others were being mum about. The rest of the team was pretty thoroughly occupied making sure Red X didn't get away again. Even though the thief _appeared_ to be KOed, they knew better than to assume he was out of commission. "In fact, I really missed you," he added in a sudden brilliant performance of emotional neediness. All he had to do was get her feeling sorry for him and then she'd let him go back to doing things the normal way... at least, to the extent it could be snuck past Raven and Cyborg and Beast Boy.

"I am sorry for my absence lately, I have merely been working on a... side project that will do much cheering upwards for you when it is complete! The others have been taking care of you, yes?"

"Yes, Starfire," the other three dutifully chorused.

"He's been behaving very well," Raven put in, then smirked and winked at Robin, who growled lowly at her in much the same manner a leashed dog might growl at a roaming cat after his nose has been lashed by said cat's tail.

Star kissed him on the cheek gently, though, and after that it was hard to think. "I am so glad! Do not worry, Robin, soon I will be doing much of the spoiling and taking care of you. I just wish to finish this project the Kid Flash and I are cooperating on first. It will be done soon, I hope dearly. Speaking of such things, I must be off again now, please do call if any further emergencies arise!"

And with that, she was gone as suddenly as she'd appeared.

The ride home was uneventful, unless you counted the police notifying them that, regrettably, Red X had escaped from the jail cell he'd been put in, which left Robin quietly slamming his head into the window over and over until Beast Boy grabbed his head and held it still. After that Robin turned his thoughts towards other things... like what could Starfire possibly be working on with Kid Flash? The two had nothing in common except general amiability, good looks, and bodies inclined to be durable beyond the rulings of conventional physics.

And then, silly though it was, he couldn't help but wonder. Just a bit. They _were_ both good-looking. They _were_ both full of stamina reserves and durability beyond that of mortal men. They _were_ both cheerful and friendly. They even both had red hair! In many ways, they could keep up with each other both in body and in mind. Whereas he, Robin, was currently so weak that Starfire hadn't even dared give him a normal hug. What if she thought he was too weak to _really_ kiss, the romantic way? Even worse, what if she thought he would _always_ be too weak? Tamaranians were very much a warrior culture. Even in their romantic gestures they were often somewhat aggressive. What if she thought he was too fragile for her kind of love now? What if she thought they could never... never... never do things he hadn't at _all_ been thinking about, especially late at night or in the shower or when she hugged him just a little too long....

Maybe she was spending so much time away from him because she couldn't bear to tell him what was really going on in her head? Maybe she stopped seeing him as a warrior, and more as a housepet or something. Maybe she and Kid Flash were... doing _things_... and then justifying it to themselves by pretending to shop for a heart attack-related present or something! (Were there even such things as heart attack-related presents? Robin had no idea.) They probably weren't even doing things, to be fair, Star was too loyal, but maybe they were _thinking_ about it, quite possibly, and was he in a position to stop them from thinking, when he couldn't even participate in a fight without being scolded? Maybe they were taking long walks around... wherever they were... and talking about him, but secretly thinking about each other. Oh, he could see how it went. All too easily. And Kid Flash was such a notorious flirt, it was legendary! It was unthinkable that he would hang out with a girl as beautiful as Starfire for a long period of time without at least playfully flirting.

Yes, there was no doubt about it. Even if he might be wrong, there was no way he could take the chance. Clearly, Robin had to come up with some grand strategem to keep Kid Flash from mackin' on his hot alien girl, before it was too late! He could take no chances, not when the stakes were so high! He had let the heart attack steal his authority, his dignity, his privacy, his hobbies, his exercise time, his fighting ability... but he would _not_ let it steal his girl! This was war!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Despite being at odds with the color code of Gotham (which was A) depressing gray, B) grime-coated depressing gray, and C) overlord of Mordor black), Jinx felt like she fit in pretty well. Something of a stray cat psychologically, she had no problems being drafted into a morally questionable, vaguely irresponsible hero versus hero conflict by her boyfriend. Convincing Star to actually come to her senses was, well, not as much fun as egging the girl on into new heights of crazy. And it was tough not to admire Starfire's sheer protectiveness of her boyfriend, a dedicated passion that Jinx kind of wished Kid Flash would pick up on. But in the meantime she had plenty of things to entertain herself with.

It was a big cat and mouse and bigger cat game now. Crime happened. Batman appeared to get the criminal. _They_ appeared to get Batman. And that was when it started getting fun, as it became a three way desperate scramble. Batman wanting to get away but not let the criminal get away, the criminal wanting to get away, KF and Starfire and herself wanting no one to get away. It was _fun_. Also, it was highly destructive to the surrounding environment, which Jinx entirely approved of. In the chaos it was easy for her to 'accidentally' pick a random civvie's pocket without being noticed... not that she ever took more than a couple bucks, just for thrills. Sometimes she _let_ Batman see, and allowed himself to be torn between three goals instead of just two: get away, get the crook, or stop Jinx from being a naughty little girl, what to do, what to do. It was risky, it was dangerous, it was probably going to get them plastered all over ever tabloid with really questionable headlines.

Jinx loved it.

Having all the perks of villainy without actually being a villain! She got to mess with the stiffs without actually hurting anyone, a truly novel concept. Even better, putting the needles on someone as famous as Bats did a good bolstering for her ego, during a time when life was so uncertain and her role in it so questionable. Starfire being the spearhead for the whole endeavour meant that there was no possible way Robin could berate _her_ without going through his girlfriend first, which was a shield Jinx was quite unashamedly happy to afford herself of. She was sick of getting yelled at.

She was also sick of _losing_, though. Her ego was more than a little bruised and, like KF and Starfire, she was starting to have an emotional investment in bringing the Dark Knight down low.

The man o' bat had gotten away seven separate times now. He was a lot better prepared for them than she would have expected, and apparently wasn't going outside now without thrice his usual arsenal. Things that made smoke, things that electrified, things that short-circuited electricity, things that deafened and blinded. All temporary, all technically harmless, but all really really annoying when you subjected yourself to it over and over. Jinx was only willing to put up with it for so long before she started getting _really_ mean and underhanded. In fact, the only thing that was holding her back so far was the knowledge that Batman would have probably approved of any truly wily strategem she cooked up, on at least a tactical level, and the last thing she wanted was that douche's approval. She hated him without knowing him (same as with Paris Hilton).

Currently they were watching an attempted mugging from that ye olde superhero platform, the rooftop, ready to jump in should things get out of hand. With mugger and victim alike bundled up in layer after layer of clothing and each topped with a large hat, it was a little hard to tell who was hurting who and how badly. A particularly awkward justle had the heroines exchanging 'Should we do something?' looks, though.

Then the victim pulled out a pink taser and zapped the mugger a good one, and they relaxed, even laughed a little. Women were perfectly capable of defending themselves, Jinx was careful to note to her boyfriend... over, and over, and _over_ again, when he never seemed to listen. And she even packed a built-in pink taser of her own that she jolted him with sometimes when he was being particularly dense. Which was most of the time.

Then Jinx, trained to spot details by supervillainous headmasters who expected great things of her (or else), got a brief look at a face and noticed that one of them was a really unusual, smoothly reflective shade of gray. Unlike many people, she knew better than to think it was her imagination. Jinx trusted her senses. It was just everything _else_ in the world she distrusted. Eyes narrowing, keeping a sharper lookout, it wasn't long before she spotted the same thing on the twitching, seemingly helpless mugger, too. And that explained the odd, clumsy but efficient movements, the enveloping clothing. Robots. She'd seen stranger things in her life; her last headmaster had had quite a thing for robots so she'd grown almost used to them. Unfortunately her pals weren't so used to it, and not so on guard against trickery. It was up to her to save the day, if it could be saved.

"IT'S A TRA-"

Of course, she didn't get to save the day, because she wasn't a godmoding shadow-whoring endlessly-utility-equipped phantom of the night like _Batman_. She felt the shift in air pressure of the net wrapping around her and the other Titans well before she actually felt the net itself, and let out a few instinctive blasts of hex energy, but it didn't do any good. Because Batman apparently had enough money to buy nets made out of something or other that was immune to _magic_. Yeah, whatever. She _knew_ he cheated. Obviously! He had cheat codes for _life_, that was the only explanation for his continual escape from Robinly reunioning!

The part she didn't know about or anticipate was when little discs where the strands connected started to hum, and she very suddenly got nauseous. It reminded her of the time she'd eaten a (stolen) bad egg sandwich and then gone on a roller coaster (after scaring away everyone nearby). Not fun times, nosiree. This time, at least, she was keeping her lunch down, but it was only by closing her eyes and focusing intensely on being calm and... self-contained. There was no way she could stand up. Throwing a hex would probably have backfired and blown her own head off.

Judging from the groans and retching sounds she was hearing, the other two were the same. Great. So far they'd lucked out and kept Batman on the defensive, but now the tables were turned. Jinx remembered how Star and KF had been carted unceremoniously back to Jump in the first place, the event that had gotten them pissed enough to ask her for help. She was not looking forward to enduring a similarly undignified event.

Somehow she sensed Batman looming, and she opened her eyes to look up into two tiny sharp white slits that glared like the eyes of an angry Old Testamant style god. Her eyes closed again quickly, and it was _totally_ because she was nauseous and not because it was scary or anything!

"You've been stealing," Batman growled vengefully. "Stealing. In _my_ city."

"S'not _your_ city," she murmured, her words almost drowned out by the sound of KF losing his cookies. By how Starfire shrieked, he'd probably done it all over the Tamaranian. Nice. She would have brought a camera if she'd known things would get this interesting. "Douche."

Hands grabbed her shirt around the collar, hauled her up till she dangled helplessly in the air. A single peek out of one eye told her the scary man was still glaring at her with white white eyes from black black shadows so she closed her eyes again and enjoyed what little comfort the backs of her eyelids could give.

"You're going to give back every penny. With ten percent interest per day since each theft. Then, you're going to apologize for shaming the name of the Titans, and send a full report of your misbehavior to Cyborg, so he can discipline you properly. And if this ever happens again, I'll see to it that you're out of the Titans for good. Understand?"

There was no way to argue with a voice like that. It was a voice that had teeth in it. Even if she'd been free she probably would have hid behind Starfire. They'd _fought_ before, yeah, but they'd never really _talked_ much... there had never been _time_ to! The fighting hadn't scared her. The talking did, though. Almost as much as the lack of being in control. It reminded Jinx way too much of those brainwashed days of yore. It was funny how it stopped being about good and evil, at a certain point. Sometimes it just turned into power versus no power. Strong versus weak.

"S-screw you," she managed through gritted teeth, convulsing as an intestinal heave wracked her.

"And all of you are going to stop this ridiculous game of trying to drag me to Jump. I'm needed here, and you're all embarrassing superheroes everywhere with the bad publicity all these stunts are giving us."

Risking another quick looksee, Jinx saw her companions were distraught. Physically and emotionally at their limit at being so humiliatingly handled after repeated failures. They almost looked ready to give in, to _really_ give in. Even Starfire. She had to stop this. She had to do something to make Batman stop seeming so perfect, and so competent, and so... so _Batman_. Something that would, if only for a brief moment, lighten the oppressive hold of Gotham and its lord of nightly spandex doom on them.

So Jinx did the only thing she could think of doing at the time.

For better or worse, she threw up on Batman.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_The tower's walls were all padded in soft plastic now, as well as all the furniture, because hard surfaces were dangerous. Raven tied a bib on Robin gently and then Cyborg picked him up and put him in a high chair. Thoroughly locked in place, there was nothing to do but enjoy Starfire's Pudding of Heart Strengthening, a noxious bowl of jiggling, scintillating slop that went through a dozen colors every moment, all of them revolting. He had to eat the whoooole thing or he wouldn't get to have his reward afterwards._

_His reward consisted of Beast Boy reading him part of a Dickens novel (with numerous 'dude!'s added), until everyone decided Dickens was too depressing and the novel was replaced by Terry Pratchett's Where is My Cow? Meanwhile, Starfire was busy making out with Kid Flash in a corner, and the guy was putting his hands in places Robin had never gotten to. Then they went to the hot tub, but the hot tub was too HOT for Robin, so he got to go to the lukewarm tube that didn't have the fun little jet things._

_While he soaked, he got to read his new schedule everyone had designed for him. It was a blank page. There was nothing on it, nothing at all, because he wasn't allowed to do anything anymore. And when he tried to talk to people about it, they turned into big Cheshire cat smiles and just smiled and bobbed in the air._

_"That's too dangerous," they kept saying. "That's too dangerous for you, Robin. It's not like you're a superhero or anything, right?"_

_"But I AM a superhero!" he tried to tell them. "I may not have any powers, but I can keep up with the rest of them!"_

_"Too dangerous," the gleaming watermelon slice-sized smiles repeated. "Who do you think you are, Batman?"_

_"But I TRAINED under Batman!"_

_"No yelling. Too stressful. Stress is dangerous. Just try to relaaaaax."_

_"But I don't want to relax! I want to work! I want to be active and do things that matter!"_

_"Just relax. Just relax. Just relax. Just relax..."_

Robin woke up in bed covered in cold sweat, panting. Horrible. Awful. Living a life where everyone else told him to stop doing things that got him serious or excited or tired. His whole life was dangerous and stressful! If they'd taken that away from him it would have meant he would have had no more of a life than someone who played World of Warcraft all day long!

But it had been just a dream.

Just a dream.

Wiping the sweat off his face with a feeling of relief, he got up, dressed, and waltzed down towards the gymnasium for a nice workout. Just a light one to stretch the muscles, get him energized and limber for the day. The familiar gray half-light of almost-dawn wafted gently through the windows with comforting familiarity.

When he got to the gymn, he turned the lights on, and stopped dead.

Cyborg had been sitting there in the dark, scowling straight at the doorway.

"Hi, Rob," Cyborg said in a cheerful tone, his face not cheerful at all.

And then everything came rushing back. The heart attack, the doctor's orders, Kid Flash and Starfire off doing who kenw what together, Raven's mother henishness. Everything.

The nightmare was reality.

"Hi," Robin said weakly, eyes fixated on the steady onwavering glow of Cy's red eye.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"...um... I just thought I left... something in here... but I guess not, huh?" He tried a fake grin. It felt sickly and unnatural on his face.

"Whatever you say, man."

"Did... did you stay up in here all night?"

"Naw. We take shifts."

"Oh."

"So, you didn't leave anything down here. Maybe you'd better head back to bed, Rob. It's pretty early."

"Yeah... yeah, it is... I guess I'll do that..." Robin mumbled, turning away and shuffling off helplessly.

He went back to bed, and didn't sleep a wink more. At eight he judged it was a sufficiently lazy time to be out of bed again and went down to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast. And it was there that he found his next obstacle.

"Hey, Robin! I made some pancakes! And they're totally not burned or anything!"

"You're up before ten," Robin blurted, the only thing he could think of to say when confronted with Beast Boy wide awake and perky in a legitimately morningish hour of the day. He inspected the pancakes suspiciously. They were, in fact, not burned. Then he counted the small stack on the platter, and looked at the large, now empty batter bowl. "You ate all the burnt ones, didn't you."

The snaggle-fanged grin was irrepressible. "Eheheh."

Well, maybe it wasn't the end of the world. Maybe they could all adjust to this. Robin certainly was going to enjoy the free breakfast while it lasted. While munching syrupy bites of pancake, he mused over the current maximum threat situation in his mind. It was a pity he couldn't just go over to Starfire and ask her straight out what was up. She would have told him if she'd meant for him to know, and the fact that she hadn't indicated that she thought he would be too stressed out if she told him, obviously! So, he had to figure out where she was and what she was doing without the direct approach, and the others keeping such close tabs on him meant he couldn't be personally involved in any other direct way, either.

His teammates were obstacles to be worked around. Without their realizing it, of course, because then they'd be upset and hurt and there would be Feelings involved and it would hurt the already group dynamic. No, they just had to go on thinking they were doing fine and that was a good, happy, _relaxed_ little Robin. Having been ousted from his roles in all things combat-related, he had a new mission, and that was to pretend everything was going just the way the other Titans wanted it, until they relaxed enough to give him some leeway... while he quietly bent the rules when no one was looking, before he lost Starfire to Kid Flash for good.

He pretended to watch tv just to lull Beast Boy to a state of unwatchfulness, while in his mind all the gears were churning. Nothing particularly interesting was on anyway. Random high school dramedy, an economy-related news report, CSI - The More Gritty Realism Edition, Tom and Jerry, another news report about the escalating superhero conflict in Gotham, a history program on the colonization of India, a cooking segment where Emeril was cutting up a squid...

Wait.

Escalating superhero conflict in Gotham?

It couldn't be.

He flipped back through channels frantically just in time to catch the tailend of the report.

It was.

Starfire, Kid Flash, some unnamed others... unfortunately the report finale didn't bother to explain what they were doing in his mentor's home turf. But whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Even more suspicious than ever now, a thousand Robiny thoughts started chirping in his Robiny mind. It could be all part of Batman's ultimate plan to wrest control of the Titans away from him! Or the Mad Hatter could have slipped mind control chips on the Titans in Gotham, forcing them to do his bidding when they weren't pretending to be not mind-controlled. Or Gotham's seductive, sophisticated aura of corruption could have lured them all in to a world of sin and darkness the likes of which they couldn't bring themselves to crawl out of again, a world full of drug abuse and promiscuity and casual swearing! Scenario after scenario fluttered through his mind, but the worst by far was his original fear of potential infidelity, only now it had the added backdrop of Gotham's sleaziest bar to enhance the imagery painfully.

He had to put a stop to it!

The first idea that came to mind was to paint himself orange, put on something skimpy and purple, and go through every act of Tamaranian romantic tradtion that he could ever vaguely recall Starfire telling him about.

He ruled that out due to it being stupid.

His second idea was to put out a hit on Kid Flash. Assassins for hire were in ample supply in Gotham.

He ruled _that_ out, with great reluctance, due to it being immoral.

His third idea was to hire a notoriously paranoid, eccentric, and socially-impaired investigator to spy on his friends until he knew for certain what was going on and could therefore formulate a plan on exactly what he needed to do to best keep KF's undoubtedly wandering eyes away from his girl. He thought of it as scouting out the battlefield. And this was a war in which no prisoners would be taken.

Regardless of whether it was because it was a genuinely good idea, or whether it merely looked that way in comparison to his first two ideas, Robin decided to roll with it.

After significant thought, he decided the best way to go about it was to write a letter. For all he knew, Cyborg could be scanning all the e-mail for anything 'stressful.' But who even used regular mail these days? No one, that was who! None of the others would even think about keeping tabs on letters, and he'd just have to slip it inside his clothes and stealthily toss it in a mailbox the next time they were in town. Yes, that was the way to do it. And he'd enclose payment with the letter... too much communication would lead trails. Payment without his fingerprints on it. Yes. Couldn't be too careful. As a further precaution, he shouldn't write it in English, anyone could read that! No, some obscure dialect none of his teammates were familiar with would be best.

Accordingly, he spent the rest of the day squinting at online English-Japanese translating tools and slowly, painstakingly scribbling out the most hideous kanji ever seen on paper. He pretended to be playing a flash game when someone was looking, and someone almost always was. Their eyes were everywhere. Everywhere! He could practically _feel_ them crawling over his skin every time he turned away. But he was not to be beaten. Oh, no. He was Robin. He'd get past this. He'd win Starfire back, and put Kid Flash in his place, and show them all just how relaxed he could be! He'd be totally relaxed! In fact, he'd be the _most_ relaxed of them all!

For some reason, Robin had a growing urge to cackle maniacally.

As with all things, he repressed it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The last time we were in Gotham, we were blessed with the point of view of a vaguely stray cattish superhero. Therefore it only seems fit to go all the way and continue the theme by following a certain especially feline sort-of-but-not-really-except-sometimes-she-is hero, the (thankfully) one and only Catwoman. In any case, she is insisting on throwing herself headfirst into this subplot with the same gleeful abandon all manipulative women who can't just leave well enough alone are prone to (especially when it comes to the affairs of gruff men), and as she's here whether we want her here or not, she might as well be elaborated upon.

Catwoman is, first and foremost, a Meddler. She meddles in the morning, and she meddles at night. She meddles in the afternoon, and then she feels alright. if something is going on in Gotham, and she can insert herself into the conflict as a shadowy figure aiding and hindering both sides of the conflict without any immediately discernable rhyme or reason, then she does so. Some people collect stamps in their spare time. Catwoman just pisses people off. It is her _raison d'etre_.

This established, it shouldn't come as a surprise to the Gotham-visiting Teen Titans (a group now swelled further by the addition of Pantha, Kole, and the inimitably eloquent Gnaark) that Catwoman would be following with intense interest the recent attempts to forcibly drag Batman out of his stalking turf, and would eventually feel like throwing in her two cents (nevermind that the pennies are double-headed). It shouldn't, but it does, because our lovable heroes aren't really used to Gotham, aren't really _part_ of Gotham even though they've rented a few rather nice hotel rooms and have been in a few of its restaurants. They are of an ilk not used to the likes of Catwoman.

Fortunately for them, she's on their side.

For the moment.

"Hey! What are you doing in my room?! Get off my bed!" Jinx is no longer impressed with big-name villainous types. Before the Madame Rouge incident, she would have been delighted to find Catwoman lounging in a vaguely erotic manner on the large hotel bed she shared with Pantha. Now, she was just pissed.

So Catwoman was, of course, pleased.

"Relaaax, Jinxy," Catwoman muttered in that special half-purr tone of voice she used when she was especially anticipatory of messing with Batman in a particularly delightful way. She took the time to sit up and look straight at the pink-topped girl, which was about the closest thing to respect anyone could ask for from her. "You guys seem to be having some trouble with the old bat in the mud, so I thought I might lend you a helping paw."

"We can handle this on our own," Jinx lied immediately and unhesitatingly. She didn't feel the need to please higher ups anymore, but she definitely had retained her ego through the faction switch. "He's gonna run out of tricks eventually and then we'll have him!"

"Everyone thinks that," Catwoman replied with sympathetic dismissal, while preening her glove claws. Because she's the sort of person who likes to not seem like she's paying much attention to who she's talking to at the time, even when she is. "But he just comes up with new ones. Bats is terrific at improv. You can't just brute force him, Bane tried that and where did it get him?" Looking up, she grinned in a predatory way that made Jinx wish she could grin like that. Hero or villain, there were benefits to being able to unnerve people with a mere change of experssion. "What you guys need is a more _mature_ strategy."

"Like what?" Jinx is not stupid. She's perfectly aware of what Catwoman is implying. Jinx is merely suspicious, and part of being suspicious means that you take the time to make people explain themselves unnecessarily in case they inadvertently reveal more than they intend to. Also, it was the traditional lead-in question to allow for an aggravated crossing of arms over the chest posture, plus some foot tapping for good measure.

"Look, kid, all that needs to be done is-"

And this is when everyone's favorite caveman, the silver-tongued Gnaark, knocked and entered into the scene, a steaming pizza box balanced on one large hand. One might ask how someone like Gnaark could even function in a place like Gotham, and the answer was simple. He hit people over the head when they attacked him, and in every other situation smiled and nodded a lot. So far it had worked out just swell. As much as Jinx was inclined to appreciate the offering of pepperoni-topped deliciousness, she immediately had cause to wish Gnaark was a bit more adjusted to polite society. Gnaark meant well, truly he did. He saw a known Bad Person in the room, absentmindedly fondingly valuables, while his teammate was looking decidedly unhappy. Could he be blamed for not realizing that Jinx did _not_ want the pizza thrown in Catwoman's face?

"GNAAARRRRKKK!"

Splat.

Whatever outraged imitation cat hissing, snarling sounds the reader can imagine could not possibly do justice to the scene. No one likes being hit in the face with hot, tomato saucey, greasy cheese. Particularly not someone as refined as Catwoman. Instinctively, she retreated to the low-hanging chandelier, there to cling and frantically wash her face (in a fashion any onlooking men that were _not_ neanderthals would have probably found very suggestive) whilst dodging Gnaark's inexpert swings. It helped that he was trying not to demolish the chandelier outright; after Kole had scolded him about ten times he had gotten it through his head that Some Things Were Not Meant To Be Smashed No Matter What.

"Gnaark GNARRRRRRK GNAARK!"

"I have far more than half a mind to scratch your eyes out, you brutish-"

"Guys! Gnaark! _Please_! She's here to help! Or something! I think! AND I WANT ANOTHER PIZZA!"

After a few minutes of exciting but very undignified bickering and wacky hijinx, things settled down into what passed for a semblance of normalcy and sanity amongst two superheroes and a moral-boundary-hopscotching antihero. Catwoman was cleaned up and lathered with aloe, Gnaark fetched another pizza, the room was put back into order, and the interrupted council of war resumed its course.

Catwoman was vague, but encouraging.

"It just requires a womanly touch, that's all," she hinted maddeningly with a mysterious smile on her lips. "Just lay back and leave things to me. I'll wrap him up... so to speak... and you guys can deliver him."

"You still haven't told us why you want to help out."

"Gnaark, Gnaark."

"Just between us girls and cavepeople? I just like messing with him," Catwoman replied with shocking honesty. What she left unmentioned was that she planned to commit an epic series of capers once her spoilsport watchbat was out of the city.

Jinx was very far from wholeheartedly won over, being reasonably adept at guesstimating ulterior motives. However, she also saw no harm in letting the thief help out. If whatever it was she had planned didn't work, it was no skin off the collective Titan nose. And if it did, they'd get a reasonable portion of the glory, and Batman would be totally humiliated (which was starting to be the _really_ important thing, to Jinx's mind). So after a quick communicator conversation with the rest of the team, she gave Catwoman their assent and blessings.

"Godspeed, kitty cat," she shot off snarkily as their newfound ally hopped out the window, on the way to make mischief.

"Oh, this won't require speed," Catwoman replied suggestively. "Some things require nuance and pacing." And with that she was off, making use of the rooftops in a way that would have terrified pigeons, except that pigeons are generally too brainless to be terrified of agile catpersons.

"Bet she's gonna try to schlup 'im," Jinx murmured to herself, staring out the window and watching the lithe figure retreat into the distance.

"Gnaark?"

"Schlup. Bang. Get it on. You know... boom chicka wow?" She tried to explain further with a few hand gestures, but Gnaark just didn't get it. And frankly, she wasn't sure she _wanted_ him to.

Jinx's guess was spot on. That very night, Selena Kyle (thoroughly covered in makeup to avoid display of disfiguring pizza burns) didn't so much ask Bruce Wayne out on a date as blackmail him into one. Of course, he was used to this sort of thing from her by now, and he was actually a little flattered that she offered to make it her treat. As much as he hated having the semblance of a life away from superherodom, he recognized the necessity, and it was usually a good idea to keep Catwoman from being mad at you when possible without compromising one's morals.

It was a nice restaurant, very upscale, and while this was very much to Selena Kyle's tastes, it further puzzled Bruce Wayne. Why was she paying for such an expensive meal? Had she managed to pull off an exceptional robbery lately without him noticing? Was she getting, God forbid, sentimental in her middle age? He wasn't sure which idea frightened him more. No, actually, he was. Definitely the second one.

The conversation was stimulating, but then, it always was with her, one way or another. She seemed intent on keeping things friendly tonight, though. A few teasing hints at how the Titans had been running him ragged, but no more than the lightest of jests, too mild to hurt his pride, jokes vague and subtle enough that listening ears wouldn't make any connections. She was cheerful but not out of control, eloquent but not judgmental, coy but not frustrating. In short, everything he could want from a woman, except for the whole She's Bloody Catwoman thing.

He didn't try too hard to avoid being seduced, but let's be honest with ourselves here... would _you_? He can perhaps be said to be guilty of overly indulging in one night stands under the excuse that serious relationships can't withstand the danger of his nighttime hobby. But on the other hand, Bruce Wayne's reputation as a playboy does genuinely do a shockingly good job of protecting his alternate identity, and so there is justification for it. There always is, because he's the kind of person who never does anything without rational justification.

Except for the tights.

Not even he can explain the allure of the tights.

In the end, after perhaps exactly the right number of glasses of wine, Bruce Wayne ended up getting a room with Selena Kyle in a hotel. It was lavish, but perfectly ordinary as far as expensive hotel rooms went. That was alright by his lights, though because it just made Selena stand out that much more.

They were adults. They behaved like adults. However, sometimes adult behavior means behaving like horny teenagers, too, and so when Selena frankly and unabashedly told him in the most filthy language what she wanted to do to him, Bruce was only too eager to lose his clothes. There were pragmatic reasons to not be too drawn out about things, also. If the Bat Signal lit up the sky, they both knew that duty came before pleasure. Always. So if she too seemed just a little rushed and eager, well, he could certainly understand why.

The strip tease was nice. The unexpected dominance, shoving him to the bed, was even nicer. The nail rakes were par the course for her, but he'd grown to appreciate it as a sort of signature lovemaking trait of the woman. They hurt a little, but only as much as they should.

When she pulled the handcuffs out of her purse with a ludicrously innocent expression, he didn't suspect a thing. Not even when she followed it up by tying a rather largish blindfold around his eyes, draping it over most of his face. He could still see out of a slit from the top of one eye, anyway.

Not until she fully completed the restraining procedure and let out a whoop of triumph that gave him a sudden sinking feeling in his chest he hadn't had since his last run in with the Joker. Then... he suspected. But didn't want to believe.

"Okay, Titans, he's all yours! Take 'im away!"

Nightmarishly, all six of his Titanic pursuers burst out of the perhaps overly spacious closest with a forceful rapidity suggestive not only of eagerness but also of freedom from potential suffication. And he believed, and hated himself for it, and hated the Titans for it, and hated, above all else, Selena bloody Kyle.

"GNAAARRRK!"

"Hahah! I _swear_ all men are just the same! I can't believe you said all that, Cats, Kole's face was so red it was about to burn up!"

"Was not, you couldn't even see my face!"

"Victory is truly ours! I thank you for your assistance, friend the Catwoman!"

"We should transport him quickly, before he gets any ideas and escapes. We can't trust him an inch."

"Tr-trust _me_ an inch?!" Bruce spluttered, the only barest shred of salvation in the entire ordeal being that at least Selena had had the courtesy to hide his identity with the oversized blindfold. "I can't believe you would do this to me! You're, you're just _kids_, you're too young for this kind of thing! And Selena, I can't believe you're in on this! It's like a conspiracy! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?!"

"Obviously not," Selena replied dryly in her Catwoman voice, one nail gliding down his bare chest. "See you later, loverboy. Maybe we can make good on those things we were talking about once you get back from visiting Rob. Nothin's less sexy than a deadbeat dad, y'know."

"I AM NOT A DEADBEAT DAD!"

"_Is he going to cry?_" Jinx whispered conspiratorially. "_I think he's actually gonna cry. His face is getting all purply._"

Sadly for our heroes, Bruce Wayne's face was merely purpling from the physical effort of forcing himself to go through several intensely painful escape artist procedures normally only performed by the double-jointed. With an effort that would leave him aching for days afterwards, he managed to free himself before his dastardly foes could react. And then, left with no other realistic options, he crashed through the window (gifting himself with several shards of glass that Alfred would be tsking and removing with tweezers later on), fell ten feet onto the roof of a shed, rolled off it and fell to the ground with a grunt, and then took off running like a madman, blindly panicky as any other hounded animal.

"Zounds! The chase is afoot!" Kid Flash called out with remarkable good cheer. Batman knew Gotham, but Kid Flash had raw speed on his side. Who would win? Well, finding out was always the fun part. And Bats didn't have any tricks up his sleeves this time. He had, in fact, no sleeves. "Tally ho!" Whoosh.

"I worry about him sometimes," Jinx mumbled with a sigh, and the rest of the Titans followed after.

As for Selena Kyle, AKA Catwoman?

She just stood there in the empty room and pouted at the handcuffs as though they were to blame. She had gone to great effort to seduce him, but in the end she hadn't made much of a difference at all with her wily ways, save for the regrettable added penalty of depriving herself of nookie. It would be a looooong time before he'd let her get to any base ever again.

Hearing him screech in fear in the distance, and then what sounded like several trashcans falling over, and then a small explosion, she chuckled, and decided it was worth it anyway.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Any form of gaming had been ruled out as too stressful for Robin, despite his oddly mild protests. But the Titans still had to do something fun together. And obviously rigorous training or sports were still out for the time being. After talking over the possibilities together, a three for, one against vote had the teens destined for Beast Boy's personal worst nightmare in recreational activity.

They were going to start a book club.

And all of the green shapeshifter's best efforts couldn't convince the other three to let comic books count.

Let's be perfectly clear here: Beast Boy is not stupid. In fact, he even reads books without being forced to do so sometimes. It's just that he is a social animal, and without the allure of irritating Raven by peeking over her shoulder, reading as a solitary activity in and of itself depresses him. Comic books are different because, being highly visual, he can at least talk to the characters and halfway pretend they can hear him sometimes.

To make matters worse, for some reason Cyborg and Raven had their hearts set on a weird gay Nancy Drew parody mystery novel. And it wasn't gay in the sense of being lame, either. The girl detective hero liked chicks. It wasn't that Beast Boy had any _problems_ with that. In fact, he enjoyed visualizing lesbians making out as much as any other guy. But reading about it and then having to _talk_ about it was weird. It was like talking about a skin mag collection or something. And Raven and Cyborg kept giving him really _weird_ looks when they talked together about the latest chapter.

The average conversation went something like this.

"I know you guys are enjoying this book, but I'm not getting so much out of it," Robin opened up. "It's not that I don't like the story... I _love_ the story. The mystery with the garden shear killer's set up pretty well, and the setting is realistic and well-developed. And the character interactions are... um, okay. But the way the author writes about it all is just annoying. It's really flowery and unnecessarily filled with fancy adjectives, and that takes away from the realism and grittiness."

"That's a really good point. The outer packaging of something isn't necessarily coupled directly to the substance on the inside," Raven responded to the boy wonder, except for some reason she was half-looking at Beast Boy instead. "Sometimes things on the outside can be deceptive or misleading. You don't have to like the prose style to appreciate the other story elements. Just like some people can look like one thing on the outside and then surprise you with who they really are on the inside. Right, Cyborg?"

"Um, yeah. And I kinda agree with Robin on how the lady writes everything is a little, I dunno, funky, but I'm enjoying the story enough to get past it. And I'd never thought about it before, but you know how there's always a sidekick that's a boy if the main hero is a boy, or a girl if the main hero is a girl? Then you normally have to shove a romantic figure in there too, and it seems kinda weird. But if you just have them be gay... then, it's like, it feels more built up naturally. Because they're already _around_ each other and stuff. Not that I'm saying it's, you know, right from a _moral_ perspective or anything..."

Raven not so discreetly kicked Cyborg in the shin with a dull metal ting. The fact that that was all she did was a rock-solid testament to how seriously they were all taking Dr. Lesion's advice to keep the infighting down.

"Not that it's not equally wrong to hate people for their lifestyle choices!" Cyborg added hastily, a faint sheen of sweat shining up the chromier half of his dome.

Beast Boy scrunched up his forehead in concentration. "Did you put the right number of nots in there? Isn't that like a double negative or something? Are you saying you hate gay people or you don't hate gay people?"

"I, um, err..."

"What Cyborg _means_ to say is that he doesn't necessarily agree with the lifestyle but still cares for the people who disagree with him on that subject," Raven explained carefully. She had become Cyborg's official stammer interpreter lately, for reasons Beast Boy couldn't understand. Cyborg had never had trouble communicating before. He just yelled louder if he was having trouble being understood. And of course that went back to Beast Boy's own seemingly more and more justified fear of losing his best friend through lack of the oh so crucial male bonding smack talk. "Just like you, Beast Boy, and Cyborg are still friends even though he loves meat and you love tofu."

Beast Boy scratched his head. "Oh. Was that what you were gonna say, Cy?"

"Uh. Yeah! Exactly!"

They all beamed at each other a bit, except for Raven, who fixed as neutral an expression as possible on her face. That was the closest she ordinarily got to beaming. Beast Boy giggled nervously.

"So, Beast Boy," Robin said with a very fixed smile, "what do _you_ think about the book so far?"

"It's okay I guess. I don't understand all the words the lady uses, she tries too hard to be fancy. But the killer's pretty neat, and that time the two chicks made out in the lighthouse was hot."

"You don't have anything deeper to add to the discussion than that?" Raven pushed him. Literally, by sheer force of personality. He leaned back against his chair meekly. "There's a lot going on in this story. Tell us what you _really_ feel about it. What about Annabeth's inner struggle to out herself to her parents? And the contrasting symbolism between the killer's hatred of minorities and Sarah's openness towards new concepts?"

"If BB doesn't wanna go any deeper than that he doesn't have to," Cyborg objected, using his special I'm-not-yelling-but-I-want-to voice that he'd taken to since the heart attack. "Maybe he's not comfortable analyzing all that stuff."

"He doesn't _have_ to," Raven replied. She had her own version of the I'm-not-yelling voice, a super-flat, deadpannier than deadpan rendition. "But I think he can get a lot out of this story if he gives it a chance. For instance, the light house scene. Beast Boy, you brought that up because it's 'hot.' But doesn't it strike you as tragic that the two characters are indulging in physical impulses at the time solely to get away from the emotional problems they're refusing to face? If they just talked to each other openly-"

"If they just talked to each other openly, we'd have no story," Robin interrupted gently. "People aren't meant to talk about their feelings all the time, and if they did, it wouldn't make life any better. Right, Beast Boy?"

"Sure, I guess. I mean, if you said what was on your mind all the time, you'd be me, right? Heheh."

They all laughed at the joke. Even Raven. And that was how Beast Boy _knew_ things were seriously screwed up.

There was an awkward silence, like a million other awkward silences they were having lately. They all smiled at each other. A single bead of sweat fell off Cyborg and plipped on the floor. Ambling by, Silkie burped, squeaked out something that sounded suspiciously like the phrase 'Excuse me' in Tamaranian, and continued about his business.

"You know, dudes, one thing I _did_ think of..." Beast Boy ventured hesitantly, wanting to break up the silence. Mostly because he knew he wouldn't be excused until they'd talked about the book for at least another five minutes. Three pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly. "These girls are like us, kind of. Except they're not _real_, and they don't have the same problems as we do, so instead the writer has to make up all these problems from them not talking to each other. I mean, yeah, we don't have to tell each other _everything_, but we don't have to lie about a million things like these chicks do with each other either. We don't need to make up annoying junk that makes our lives harder, bad guys come right up to our door and stuff and make life hard for us!"

"What you're trying to say is characters keeping secrets from each other for no reason is unrealistic and contrived?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, exactly!" Beast Boy said, happy that someone genuinely got it. "Like your mask thing. Dude, you have no idea how much that bugged me before you took it off in front of us that first time. I mean, it's not like we were gonna turn you in or anything!"

"Beast Boy, that's needlessly confrontational," Raven chided him.

Beast Boy held up his hands defensively. "I'm not being confrontational! Robin even agrees! Don't you, Rob?"

"It's fine," said through a plastered on smile. "I don't have a problem with it. I _have_ been hiding things a little too much. But I'm done keeping big things like that from you guys. It only stresses me out, after all."

"We're all glad to hear that," Raven said slowly with a suspicious look at their leader. "So, Beast Boy, since you're being a proponent of absolute honesty, is there anything you'd like to get off your chest? You know we can all trust each other."

He picked a flea off his ear and squished it. "Nope! I'm good. ...Can I go now?"

"If no one else has anything to add for this chapter..." Raven unsuccessfully tried to prompt them. She sighed. "I guess we're done, then."

Beast Boy scrambled off as quickly as he could without being rude about it. Even as fast as he was going, though, he still heard Cyborg and Raven start up a harsh, whispery exchange of nasty words he couldn't really make out, even with his hearing. When he turned to look back, the whispering stopped, Cyborg smiling innocently, Raven deadpanning. He shrugged and went back to getting the heck out of dodge before they made him talk about literachure some more.

The team was only getting weirder and weirder every day, and he didn't know what to do to stop it. Or even if he _should_ stop it. All that smiling couldn't be good for their cheek muscles, though! And what if they broke up?! He didn't want them to break up! Even if it might be best for Robin... he didn't _wanna_! For one thing, he had zilch for a backup plan. No college fund or safety net or anything. Unless the Doom Patrol would take him back, but the concept of being yelled at by Mento was a lot less appealing than being yelled at by Robin (if Rob was ever allowed to yell again in his life). Plus, the Doom Patrol had a very severe lack of hot chicks. Just because he couldn't actually flirt with Starfire or Raven without being killed didn't mean he didn't enjoy the eye candy, like any other green-blooded dude.

And Cyborg....

He was not gonna let Cy go without a fight! No matter _how_ weird his best bud was acting! No way, no how. Best friends forever.

FOREVER.

Then it occurred to him that maybe Raven and Cy were spending so much time around each other because they _liked_ each other. That would explain so much! Cy was totally avoiding him to make out with Raven, of course, it was all so simple! Okay, fine, Raven _was_ hot when she wasn't being mean, but that didn't mean she could steal his friend while they were pretending everything was cool because of Rob's condition! If he had to choose, Beast Boy knew he'd choose having Raven mad at him and having Cy for a best friend again over having Cy and Raven be nice at him and drift away to be with each other. Because Raven being mad at him was really just Normal, and fake niceness sucked for having fun. But even Beast Boy knew he couldn't just walk up to them and demand that they stop it with the tongue hockey....

Wait, wait.

He was being dumb.

This was stupid.

If they were hanging out more together, it was _obviously_ because they just got along better without arguing! Just like he was _trying_ to do, but it wasn't working because Cy was spending time not-arguing with Raven instead of not-arguing with _him_. Cyborg was replacing him with Raven as a best friend!

...and okay, maybe they'd never actually _said_ they were best friends... it wasn't like they'd ever pinky swore on anything on it... but _still_....

Obviously, he had to show Cy how good a friend he was, and how he didn't _mind_ if Cy spent time with other people who happened to have silky-smooth legs and Dracula haircuts. He'd just pretend it didn't matter and continue to be super awesome with his best bud. In fact, he'd be super awesome more than ever. Better than _Raven_ could ever be! They'd have so much fun together they couldn't stand it! Every moment Cyborg was away from Raven, he, the lovable Beast Boy, would be there to fill Cy's life with all the bad jokes and tofu that Raven couldn't provide. And when they weren't together, he'd be doing stuff to help Cy out just like friends did, so Cy wouldn't even have any reason to _want_ to yell at him anymore. Yeah. That was it. He wouldn't make Cy _choose_ or anything. He'd just show the dude how much more _fun_ he was than that mopey bookworm.

It was a totally awesome plan, and nothing could possibly go wrong with it.

He'd start by doing Cy a favor and polishing his car by going turtle and rubbing his shell all over the new paint job. He was pretty sure that was what a turtle waxing meant. The little ridges in the shell helped to take the dirt off, or something. Then Cy would see who the best teammate was!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Within the diverse extended Titans roster, the brothers Thunder and Lightning are somewhat unique. Not just because they're really good at smashing and blasting things, although that part certainly helps. No, it's more the fact that they are, to some extent, more than just _people_.

They're also representatives of raw elemental forces, the likes of which are not so much immoral as completely decoupled from morality and all other psychological foundations of sentience.

As such, while they _do_ do their best to play nice with mortals nowadays, they do have moments when they simply have trouble seeing eye to eye with their frailer, flabbier neighbors in the earthly spheres of influence.

For example, Thunder and Lightning were currently attempting to create a synchronized natural sound and light show to the tune of Thunder's latest new favorite song ever, the late Michael Jackson's Thriller. They were doing this just a bit offshore in the ocean, so the humans could watch and appreciate the artistry of it while not being in any way endangered. And so their feelings were rather hurt when one of the five core Titans showed up and started yelling at them for it. It wasn't like they were _hurting_ anyone, after all.

Unfortunately for the brothers, they had inadvertently followed in the footsteps of Doctor Light and made the classic blunder of, no, not starting a land war in Asia, but of pulling weird stuff so close to the Titan Tower that the heroes could look out their window and see it happening.

"Just _what_ do you think you're doing? Robin is trying to have a nap!"

To his credit, Lightning is enough of a carefree mini deity that he isn't completely shocked by Raven teleporting right behind him, even though she is full clad in the dark splendor of extra glowing eyes and tentacles. In fact, he takes it pretty much better than anyone else _ever_ has, which leaves our telekinetic lass a bit out of sorts.

Raven does not like being out of sorts.

She has no way to respond to it without yelling, and loud noises are exactly the kind of thing she is trying to stop.

"Ah, look brother, our friend, the sorceress daughter of He Who Is Probably Better Off Not Named, has come to join us in the festivities!"

"We are glad to have your company! Come, it is my birthday, let us be jubilant together!" Thunder has seen just enough of the Thriller video to know some of the dance moves, without knowing enough to get that it is not the sort of dance where two people hold on to each other. The resulting mid-air permutation of Jackson's original rendition leaves Raven almost breathless with unspeakable rage that is held in check primarily by intense confusion. And the fact that half of Thunder's footsteps are sending deafeningly loud shockwaves into the ocean. "Hahah, you see what fun we can have together!"

"Without hurting anyone else at all, I might add," Lightning breaks in cheerfully, sending sparks along the water that inadvertently fry a few fish (Aqualad would be having _words_ with the two brothers later on).

"_'Cause this is thrilleeeeerrrr, thriller niiiiiiight,_" the two sang together happily, clasping each others' backs. The lyrical cue was just enough to Raven in to the godlings' musical intentions.

"This is completely inappropriate!" she snapped, teleporting out of Thunder's unwanted (and somewhat tingly) grasp. "It's not even Halloween! And that singer guy is dead, too! And as I said before, Robin needs his nap, because he's very sick lately, and if you two don't knock it off I'll knock _you_ off... permanently!"

"But... we were just celebrating my birthday..." Thunder pouted, so sadly that even Raven almost felt guilty for a split second measured in time as less than the time it takes for a bat to flutter its wings. "...the dark singing zombie man is dead?"

"Actually, he wasn't a zombie. And he wasn't dark. Um, for the last few years, anyway. And yes, he _is_ dead now. And the revival fad isn't funny anymore. Go sing and dance somewhere else."

Lightning is offended on his brother's behalf, and quick to jump to a defensive posture. "Don't be ridiculous! The moving picture box that you mortals use _clearly_ showed the man as a zombie with dusky flesh hue! And zombies don't die, they just become, at most, sentient motes of burnt up ash that are incapable of eating the brain matter of mortals, everyone knows that! Just because you have no wish to celebrate with us does not mean you should lie so blatantly! Pay the grumpy girl no mind, brother! We are doing no harm, breaking no mortal laws! _You hear the doooooorrrr slam and realize there's nowhere left to run (OH)_!" The accompanying hip thrust didn't endear Lightning to our much put-upon young lady.

"Brother, perhaps she does have a point," Thunder interrupted, ever the more cautious of the two. Of course, that was like being damper than fire. "If the great Titan leader Robin is ill, we should leave him to his rest."

Raven decided a compromise was in order, in lieu of her usual threatening tactics. "Tell you what," she said in her I'm-being-reasonable tone, "if you guys move your fun to the middle of the Pacific or something, I'll... buy you a cake, or something like that." It would be one of the little ten dollar ones.

The brothers talked this over, decided that yes, they did in fact like mortal cakes very much, and agreed to relocate the weather-involved rendition of pop music over to a less inhabited locale. Although the humans would surely miss out on watching the fun then. Surely it was their loss. Still... who could resist a mortal cake?

...but Lightning wanted to make sure it was a perfect cake, worthy of his brother's day of birth, and not some scam just to get them to leave. So he had to be sure of every last detail. Thus, a brief interrogation into the exact level of cakishness this cake was to deliver was necessary.

"With the little ridged frosting lines on the sides?"

"Yeeees," she droned, a vein in her forehead throbbing.

"And candles? Blue ones would be most appropriate."

"Yes."

"And flowers around the side?" Thunder broke in, getting into the spirit of the thing. He liked edible sugar flowers. They were pretty _and_ delicious. So many things mortals made were only one or the other.

"Yeeeesssssssss," Raven hissed.

"And little frosted balloons on top?"

"Yes!"

"And sprinkles?"

"AND _**DOOM**_, IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF HERE!" she boomed in full I-am-Trigon's-daughter fury.

The two brothers blinked, shrugged, and looked at each other.

"It is satisfactory," Lightning decided with a meaningful nod.

And then they beat a hasty retreat, dignity mostly intact. After all, just because Raven didn't _scare_ them didn't mean they wanted to risk getting the divinity beaten out of them.

Satisfied that the situation had been taken care of without so much as bothering the other Titans, who were busy making sure Robin got his rest, Raven teleported herself back to the tower, ready for some peace and quiet. There wasn't any doubt in her mind that she would find it. After all, Cyborg and Beast Boy had been fairly good at being quiet and well-behaved lately, and even Robin seemed to be coming to the sensible conclusion that a little rest and relaxation wouldn't kill him.

So she was more than a little disconcerted to find herself back in the middle of a madhouse.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT TO MY BABY! THE ONE THING I LOVE MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF AND ALSO WAFFLES!" Cyborg hollered, his voice seemingly especially loud because it hadn't yelled in quite a while, as he chased a frantically shapeshifting Beast Boy across the room and finally out into the hallway.

"WHY WON'T YOU LOVE MEEEEEEE...." Beast Boy's answering yell faded off into the distance as the two starting making their way very noisily up the stairs.

Figures. She left them alone for just a few seconds and they turn into... themselves. Ugh. Boys. Hopefully they hadn't woken Robin up. After teleporting them to their rooms and locking their doors as punishment for not at least _faking_ maturity, she floated into his room to make sure Robin was alright. Magic made so many things so much simpler.

He was buried under the covers, just like she'd left him, but there was a suspicious panel of light coming through the fabric, and little electronic beeps. For most teenagers, it would have been a portable gaming device. Raven recognized it as something far more sinister: the team communicator. With it came contact to the outside world, and missions, and information on criminals, and all sorts of _stress_ that she just couldn't let Robin be exposed to right now!

Robin realized her presence and rapidly growing displeasure almost immediately. "Eep! _Abort, abort, report back later,_" he squeak-whispered, shutting off the communicator and trying in vain to hide it.

"Robin, who were you talking to when you were supposed to be taking your second nap of the day?"

His head popped up, smiling and innocent. She wasn't fooled. "I'm sorry, it's just that I wasn't tired and so I decided to talk to... um... Gnarrk!"

"Gnarrk has a communicator?"

"He and Kole share one, I think. Eheh."

"Right. Well, get some rest, okay? I'm gonna go fix supper." She wasn't that great... okay, she wasn't good at _all_ when it came to cooking, but she was getting better. And at least she didn't make things inedible to human sensibilities like Starfire did, she just burnt things like a normal person!

"Oh, okay. What are we having?"

"A three bean casserole. I found the recipe online. Is that okay?" She fretted briefly. "I can find something else if you want..."

"Oh... that sounds... really good, Raven! It'll hit the spot, I'm sure."

She fixed supper. It was mostly unburnt, but extremely unappetizing. But it really was the best she could manage, and the only thing she could think of at the moment that they would all eat. So they gathered around the table, all signs of previous altercations evaporated, and smiled, and ate.

And smiled.

And ate.

And smiled some more.

"That was delicious, Raven!"

"Yeah, when did you get to... I mean, you're really good at cooking!"

"It's too bad Starfire has to miss out on great food like this."

"Thanks, guys," she said awkwardly. She attempted to beam at them. She thought maybe a little of her soul died when she actually managed it. Also, she _hated_ the three bean casserole. But she'd had two large plates of it anyway. They all had. In fact, unless she'd counted wrong, they'd all had _exactly_ two servings each. "I guess I'll have to make it more often if it's such a hit, huh?" she said with a great big smile, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach that was only half caused by bean-related indigestion. To her inner horror, the others seemed to approve of the idea.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Meanwhile, a paranoid superhero detective was doing what he did best.

...no, not that paranoid superhero detective. The _other_ one.

That's right, _that_ one.

Question liked to think that he was the best at what he did, and what he did wasn't very polite. Whereas the ever-growlingly vigilant Batman specialized in intimidation, Question specialized in being creepy. While, if our gentle readers haven't thought it over before, these may seem like very similar concepts, there are subtle procedural differences involved. For instance, Batman would never have been caught inspecting used tampons. Question, by contrast, was busily analyzing the blood stains and extrapolating the evidence to the psychological makeup of the team of Batman-Hunting Titans. He happened to know that Kole had not had her first period yet (and _how_ he happened to know this we shall leave up to the audience's imagination). He also knew that Jinx had a light flow, and the tampon was far too large to be appropriate for her. Pantha or Starfire, then. Pantha had seemed particularly moody lately.

All this was relevant because he knew that superheroes on their periods were _not_ people to mess with. He needed to know who to avoid. They were already most likely seething with frustration from being unable to capture Batman through the man's endless belt of gadgets and even more endless internal supply of cunning. There was no need to provoke them further. Particularly when Kid Flash had already caught him setting up night surveillance cameras. Three separate times.

...super-fast really _was_ the most inconvenient superpower to work around. He was really quite impressed that Batman was still finding ways to get past it, actually. And grateful that the yellow spandexed kid was laid-back enough to not do more than try to shoo him off. Well, there had also been the incident with the underwear wedgie in Gotham Park, but Question considered that a perfectly reasonable career hazard, and much preferable to the firearms-oriented conflicts he usually dealt with instead. Besides, those boxers had been about to die anyway.

Tampon analysis complete, he stuffed the trash back into the tiny plastic bin, careful to get the order exact. Unfortunately his attention to detail proved his undoing, as it delayed him long enough that Jinx got back from getting a soda before he could exit via the window. The tiny girl had the footsteps of a footpad!

"Hey, what're you doing in my holy crap where's your face?!"

"Oh dear. This is a little awkward." He finished putting the last of the trash back and slid the bin into place.

"And what are you doing going through my trash?!"

"It's nothing personal. I go through everyone's trash."

"He really does," Catwoman opined, leaning in over the pink-haired and increasingly angry-looking girl. "Been a while since you've stalked me, Q. You got the address mixed up this time. I'm not technically living here, I just pop in enough to advise these wayward little children."

"And steal our tuna sandwiches," Jinx grumbled. "You _know_ this loser?"

"Stray animals often bump into each other." The long-legged thief pointed a glove claw at him. "So what's the deal, Q? Whatever you want, make it quick. We've got our hands full trying to deal with the _other_ socially-maladjusted superhero in this city."

Question thought things over. He could boldly run away, away, and that was his first instinct. However, Robin's (very shoddily-written) instructions had specifically focused on Starfire and Kid Flash, not any of the others. Kole, Jinx, and all the rest had nothing to do with the job. In fact, if he could get them to join in, things could be simplified. And these two ladies seemed the sort to be open to a little reasonable negotiation. He decided to risk it.

"I was hired by an acquaintance of yours to make sure that Kid Flash and Starfire aren't inadvertently or intentionally engaging in, shall we say, less than chaste activities," he informed them, watching eyebrows raise in sync with the statement. "I wouldn't ordinarily bother with something like this, but considering the source, and the fact that I was paid in advance, it only seems polite to be indulgent."

"They're not making out or anything! Why would anyone think that?! KF likes _me_... I mean, not that I _care_ or anything! Are you from a tabloid or something?!" Jinx half-yelled, fingertips aglow with pink. The hue made it actually a lot less threatening and a lot more pretty, but Question was ready to jump out a window at a moment's notice regardless.

"I'm not at liberty to reveal my sources, but trust me, they're a bit higher than some trashy print rag. Look, you two are normal enough women. And miss Jinx, you have a _little_ bit of a personal stake in this. A tiny bit? Yes? I feel that we can come to an arrangement here. You're having trouble capturing Batman. Fine. Keep half an eye on our couple and make sure they're not doing anything... inappropriate... for a week or so, and in return, I'll _tell_ you how to defeat Batman. And we can all put our minds at ease about the other issue."

"Oh, come now, Q, we're not _quite_ that gullible," Catwoman purred. "Why should we think you know how to do something that I and half a dozen Titans have failed at so far? Although we have come close a few times...." She sighed. "I should have remembered his skills at escape artistry. But you don't have anything up on him. He's a better fighter than you, and better equipped than you. What help could you _possibly_ be to us?"

"Oh, Batman's an impressive specimen, no doubt. But I know exactly how to beat him. I could do it right now with a simple phone call if I wanted to. If you don't want to believe me, that's fine. I'll just be on my way." He started to walk out the door. It was a calculated move, designed to prompt a response. He was almost thinking it wouldn't work when Catwoman called out to him.

"Wait."

He turned around. "Yes?"

"How about a week?" Jinx suggested. "If we haven't seen anything by then, nothing's going on. Kid Flash isn't exactly subtle. Heh. One week, and if you're right then I'll take care of the problem _for_ you. And if you're not, then you put your money where your... uh... nonmouth is."

Beneath his mask, Question grinned. "Deal."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Adonis threw a potted plant at Robin while robbing a bank. For his troubles, the musclebound villain had the entire plant shoved into a place it was not meant to be by an angry Raven. He was later treated for rectal trauma, and was told by doctors not to sit down for a month.

Atlas had his speech circuits fried by Cyborg after refusing to lower the volume of his battle yells. The condition was repairable, but the authorities judged it better to leave him mute, and thus he was unable to protest when a fellow superpowered criminal beat him up and stole his lunch in jail. Not that the other villain wanted the lunch, which was mostly oil and batteries. But it was the principle of the thing.

Mad Mod acquired some permanent scars from Beast Boy's hawk talons. He hadn't believed the changeling when the normally laidback green kid threatened to whoop his butt if he didn't stop forcing Robin to do algebra.

Blackfire had, through her gossip channels, heard of Robin's condition and came back to Earth with the intention of actively exploiting it. She, in turn, was unprepared to be caught while still high in the atmosphere by an overly defensive Starfire, who gave her five seconds to explain herself before promptly knocking her back out of the planet, minus several teeth. afterwards, Blackfire judged it a better use of her time to see a dentist and get some fashionable replacements rather than risk damaging her good looks further. And she actually paid the dentist with real, legal moneys, because there are some kinds of professionals you just don't mess with while they're doing their jobs, even if you are a supervillain.

The Hive Five team started a plot to overthrow Jump City, spreading out and creating their own unique kinds of mayhem with everything from Gizmo-created giant mechanical termites to toxic gas attacks spawned primarily by an infinitely multiplied series of Billy Numerous flatulence incidents. In return, the Titans initiated a series of counterattacks on each assault. However, since there was always at least one person with Robin the whole time to make sure he would be safe, and since Starfire was only able to get there in time to help erratically, they lacked the manpower to sufficiently thwart the diverse stratagems of the Hive Five. Eventually, shamefaced, they called in Titans East to help take down the crooklets. And even then, Bumblebee wasn't allowed to yell as loudly as she would have liked.

Control Freak deluged the Titans with a series of 'transported from television' weapons. This continued right up until the point where the Titans realized that Control Freak's remote could create all sorts of useful things for Robin, like a lazy boy chair, a hammock, and a refreshing pitcher of lemonade. Cyborg and Beast Boy then spent the rest of the day bullying the chunky geek into being Robin's extremely grumpy butler. Afterwards, Control Freak crept off, minus his dignity but plus a birdarang (Robin wasn't allowed to carry any kind beyond the regular non-exploding sort anymore), which he later sold on Ebay for a cool thousand.

You don't even want to know what happened to Johnny Rancid.

The Master of Games transported all of the Titans into a newer, grander, more epic series of fighting challenges. Robin was not allowed to take part by the determination of the other heroes, and sulked as he stood back and watched everyone else have fun getting the tar beaten out of them. And that is how Speedy wound up with a sweet shiny golden medal and a black eye from flirting with Kole (winners' highs do horrible things to good-looking people).

Cheshire engaged in an extremely smooth, well-animated battle against Robin one night. Robin lost, primarily because his teammates had replaced all his loud, dangerous, and physically-demanding tools with soft foam equivalents. Even through the mask, Cheshire looked pretty surprised when he bonked her on the head with a foam bo. Robin was surprised, too.

Kardiak was firmly told straight-out that he, she, it, or whatever was far too thematically relevant to current unpleasant circumstances to be allowed in Jump City anymore. The giant heart decided to molest little girls in another city. The Titans were too occupied with trying to make Robin forget that Kardiak ever existed in the first place to actually track the monster down and defeat it.

And so it went.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

In the end, Starfire and her cohorts couldn't defeat Batman on their own. And in the end, there were no obvious signs of anything even pg-rated between Starfire and Kid Flash. And so that is how Jinx and Catwoman eventually took Question up on his offer for help. What he told them to do was so stupidly obvious that they were almost embarrassed to suggest it to Starfire.

But it worked.

At the last, with all other options and resources exhausted, the costumed teens did the only thing they possibly could to defeat Batman: they told on him.

And that is how Batman came to be carried through the air at a moderately uncomfortable and more than moderately dangerous elevation by Superman and Starfire. Starfire had his feet, because that was presumed to be the slightly less dangerous half of Batman. That was technically incorrect, as there _is_ no less dangerous half of Batman (only the half that _looks_ less dangerous), but still, even _he_ could only do so much when being restrained in midair by two super-fast, super-strong super-people. He couldn't even reach the shielded pouch that contained just enough kryptonite to make Superman normal human strength (which, to Superman, was disgustingly, unbearably agonizingly weak). The two superheroes thought it best to travel a bit slower than necessary, ostensibly for Batman's 'comfort.' For his part, Batman thought it was to deepen his humiliation. However, this is probably his cynical mind giving the two too much credit. Neither Superman nor Starfire are prone to displays of psychological sadism or domination of people physically weaker than them. Which is, really, a darn good thing for everyone else in the world, because otherwise we'd be dealing with some seriously messed up BDSM fads in superheroic bedrooms.

"Superman?" Batman said finally, after remaining stoic through two clouds and a small flock of migrating birds.

"Yes, Batman?" Superman replied amiably. He was in a good mood. He liked helping people, and if he got to help them by sticking it to mister pointy eared grumpy mcgrumpytights, well, that was just fine by him. He was of the opinion that Batman would lighten up one of these days with the right amount of interference on his part, just like abusive husbands are certain their wives will stop making them angry if only they hit them that magical number of times.

"I hate you." It's worth noting that this is the only time Batman has outright stated an emotion he felt in a fully ten year period. He allows himself one slip every decade. Exactly.

"I know," Superman said back, with the tone of a man who is discussing whether to have scones or crumpets with his tea. "It's how I know I'm doing my job well. Before I do anything these days, I stop to ask myself, 'will this, in some way, piss off Batman?' And if the answer is yes, I know it's the right thing to do."

Ten more minutes pass in silence. It can't be called an entirely uncomfortable silence, since only one of the three is actually uncomfortable while the other two are disgustingly chipper. But it's definitely a silence.

"Can I at least use the bathroom?"

"Don't let him," Superman advised, fully versed in Batman's trickery. "He'll just use it as a chance to escape."

"I am sorry, the Batman, but the Superman is most likely correct in his assumption. There is a room of bathing at our home, once you have given Robin appropriate consolations for his condition and apologized for your lack of haste in visiting."

"You want me to say I'm sorry?! Look, you two may not understand this, being sentimentality-coated idiots, but I'm staying away for his own good! Things between us aren't... it's just complicated, alright?!"

"You will apologize," Starfire continued relentlessly. "You will also physically embrace Robin in the socially appropriate fashion traditional for substitute father figures and adopted sons."

"I am _not_ going to hug him."

"Oh, you're going to hug him," Superman backed up the fellow alien perkily. "One way or another. It's past time you two've patched things up, you know. The other heroes are starting to talk. Trust us, Batman. This is for your own good."

The remainder of Batman's communications during the flight were judged unfit to be rendered in print, due to excessive vulgarity.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

As far as Slade was concerned, today was _the_ day.

He had planned out every last detail to an exquisite and excruciating degree. The Titans were vulnerable like never before, spread apart, mentally unbalanced, and in one case physically hindered. They were losing to one-off chumps like _Kardiak_, for heaven's sake. It was time to take advantage of all that and destroy the Titans once and for all. At this point, it wasn't so much because his plans required it as it was a matter of pride. They'd beaten him just enough times that it was starting to get hard to fake unconcern about it. And to Slade, like Batman, maintaining an impeccable icy dignity was more important than trivial things like how the rest of your species felt about you. The Titans were going _down_, because his daily planner said so.

Sipping a cup of tea with a splash of milk and half a cube too much sugar (he reminded himself to do something appropriately evil to his butler later), Slade reviewed his conveniently endless army of robot minions, deemed it adequate, and set out to destroy the Titans forever. It was a grand, glorious, and terrible march as they poured out of dozens of warehouses and storage facilities on his Wifi-enabled command. There were lasers, and explosions, and collateral damage of architecture, and people dying just offscreen. His army carved a path through the city towards the awkwardly t-shaped tower of his enemies, taking out everything in the way, and even some nearby things that weren't in the way at all, like old Mister Johanson's Kittens & Puppies store. There was too much sheer force, too much chaos, too much of everything for the Titans to be able to handle it in their current state. It would be like taking candy from a baby. Well, technically, from a heart attack victim.

Sadly for Slade, but happily for the rest of Jump City, just as the Titans lined up in front of the robotic horde and tensed themselves for a probably futile battle, Superman and Starfire arrived with a grumpy humanoid bat in tow.

And Kid Flash, who _definitely_ wasn't going to miss _this_ reunion.

And Question, who took a train like the normal person he was in most non-mental aspects.

Slade was not a happy evil overlord, but he made the best of it. Dignity was everything, after all. He could take a loss and walk away with a smile. He did it almost every time, after all. Except that he was crying on the inside, just a little bit.

"Well, what do we have here?" he asked with expertly feigned nonchalance, directing the query to the most powerful hero present, the ever-frustrating Superman. "I see the Titans have brought numerous reinforcements. And here I left my kryptonite bullets at home. What a pity."

"It appears that the tables have been upended," Starfire burst out with a warrior's angry joy, figuring it was up to her to state the obvious since Robin was supposed to be taking a break from enthusiastic speeches. "Your array of humanoid machinery is most impressive but even you must admit that we have the upper forearm with the Superman's help!"

"Indeed, I'm forced to concede the point. I'm very much out of my league. Very well. I see no value in wasting my expensive tools on a pointless exercise. I surrender."

There was a bit of a quiet moment as all the heroes looked at each other uncertainly. They weren't really used to supervillains surrendering. Not ones of _Slade's_ caliber. Alas, the proliferation of car alarms going off due to Slade's robotic mayhem was making it hard to think.

"You... you can't do that!" Robin stuttered into a snap, waving a wobbly foam bo, then realizing it was foam and throwing it away while hoping that Slade hadn't seen it.

Slade raised a single eyebrow expertly, but the gesture was lost beneath his mask. Sigh, fashion sense had its drawbacks. "Really now? I can't surrender? Would you feel better if I put my hands behind my head?" He did so, and if the gesture seemed overly dramatic and mocking, well, that was really the point.

"What's _wrong_ with you?! You can't just _give up_!" Even Robin knew he was incoherent. But everything really was all wrong. Slade had to pay for his evil deeds, but the good guys weren't allowed to beat him up properly unless Slade fought back. Otherwise it was abusive and got reported in tabloids, no matter how much Slade might deserve it! "If we just hand you over to the police you'll just escape from prison anyway!"

"Robin," Raven warned him lowly. "Calm down or I'm giving you a time out."

"Actually, I'm planning on escaping from the transportation that will be trying to take me to prison," Slade explained calmly. "Not that there's anything you can do about it. There are _rules_, you see. Precedents. Legal procedures. And... so on. So, Robin, do you actually have a pair of handcuffs in your belt, or have those too been replaced with a child's toy?"

"ARGH!"

"I think you've stimulated him enough for one day," Raven growled.

"I agree, friend Raven!" Starfire chimed in hotly. "Assume the appropriate position for restraint, Slade!" She smacked Slade on the back of his head.

This sent his head about two feet into the concrete sidewalk with a series of cracking, squishing sounds.

There was a dead, absolute silence.

Blood pooled up in the indentation.

"Dude... did, did you just... _kill_ him?" Beast Boy demanded of his longtime 'gentle' alien teammate.

"I... am sorry?" Starfire said hesitantly, not sounding very sorry at all.

"_Mnt... deh..._" Slade said through blood and various chunky bits of his own face.

"Oh my God, he's alive!" Cyborg squealed. "We need an ambulance! No, wait, Beast Boy, you turn into a pterodactyl and carry... no, wait, Kid Flash, you run him... no, wait, Raven you teleport him! Yeah, that's it!"

"_Dnt.. hff... hth... shrnsss..._" Slade mumbled painfully.

"What'd he say?" Beast Boy asked, scratching his head.

"I think he said he doesn't have health insurance," Superman translated with the help of his, well, super hearing. Like his super everything else.

"You can't just leave him to die!" Batman growled at his growliest. Despite his passion, his fury was mostly fueled by the fact that he really _did_ have to go the bathroom really badly, more than because of the life or death situation at stake here.

It only took a second for Beast Boy to ask the obvious. "We can't? I mean, you may not have noticed, dude, but Slade's a jerk."

The heroes thought it over.

Reluctantly, they got Slade some appropriate medical treatment anyway. Because, all other things aside, they were still heroes. And being a hero meant being a sap.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Slade was taken care of, the robots stacked up in crates and carted away, the city repairs started. Introductions and explanations had flown around the reunited and newly-met heroes. And at last, it was time to sit down to what Raven deemed the most appropriate way to Resolve Things: a nice cup of tea. Perhaps she would have felt differently if she'd known that Slade would have approved.

Superman, Batman, Kid Flash, Question, and the original Titans gathered around a slightly uncomfortably too small fold-up picnic table to indulge in their herbal tea meekly. For her part, Raven made sure everyone had napkins in their laps, and sugarless cookies, and utensils. No one really knew what the silverware was supposed to be for, but they were all too scared to ask Raven. Except for Beast Boy, because he was Beast Boy.

"Dude, what're the forks and stuff s'posed to be for?"

"They're in case anyone wants anything else," Raven told him primly. "So, do you guys want anything to snack on? We've got some leftover bean casserole I could heat up. Or I could fix... some..." And there she floundered, having not had enough experience as a cook to know what she could fix, but feeling that she should fix _something_, so it would be Nice and Organized.

The other heroes politely, smilingly declined with simultaneous hasty murmurs, to Raven's inner relief.

So they all sat down to their tea.

"So, Question, what are _you_ doing here?" Robin inquired with forced cheerful wondering. Question was _not_ supposed to be here. Why was Question here?! This wasn't the plan! This wasn't the plan at all! Was it bad news?! OH MY GOD STARFIRE REALLY WAS CHEATING ON HIM, THAT HAD TO BE IT, AND THEY'D ALL COME TO TELL HIM! He kept on smiling. "Is this a professional visit or are you just here to socialize?"

Question is quite good at faking any given emotion whenever needed, and unlike Robin or Batman, actively derives entertainment from doing so. He has actually faked orgasms and gotten away with it... just because he could. "Oh, Starfire was making such a ruckus up in Gotham that I just _had_ to see what all the fuss was about. You seem to be holding up quite well, though."

"Boyfriend Robin's condition is a matter that is indeed very solemn, but he is doing much to remain brave and strong despite the absence of gravely needed _support_," Starfire put in with a smile that became predatorily sharp as she glanced at Batman.

And with that green gaze, Batman felt his doom approaching. Deciding that it was best to just get it over with so he could freaking pee, he took a deep breath and steeled himself. There had to be some way he could hedge enough to satisfy Robin's demon of a girlfriend without totally compromising his identity.

"Well, I, ah... that is to say... Robin..."

Starfire's eyes were actually radiating heat on a level that could have competed with, nay, bested the Coleman Outdoor Company. It didn't put him at ease that she was still smiling and sipping tea.

"I suppose it is time to get you equipped with something more than Alfred's cookies," Batman ventured. It was the closest thing to sentiment he could manage. "Perhaps we could... supply you with a proper car of your own, with bulletproof plating..." You have to give it to him, at least he tried. "Since your current gear seems to be undergoing some rather ineffective modifications..." Then again, he didn't try _too_ hard.

"Robin isn't allowed to use tools that could endanger him until he's feeling much better," Raven explained, ignoring Robin's face, which was increasingly resembling his shirt in hue.

It was up to Question to inject some sanity into the proceedings. The fact that it was up to Question to do this should tell you just how far along things have progressed. Also, he couldn't drink his tea through the mask, and it was upsetting him because he liked tea. But not enough to take his mask off. "Raven, if I'm interpreting this correctly... you're all coordinating efforts to keep your leader _safe_, is that it?"

They all nodded and smiled. "Mmhmm!" the four Titans chorused. Robin's own smile got just a trifle more fixed.

"As in, _completely_ relaxed and out of any kind of harm?"

"They're really doing a good job," Robin put in woodenly, with a face like Pinocchio's.

"That sounds a bit extreme," Superman said mildly, pouring himself a second cup.

"A bit extreme?" Without looking, Question idly smacked Kid Flash away from stealing his still undrunk cup. It was _his_ tea, dang it. And he _was_ going to drink it. If only he could get them all to turn their backs for five seconds. Well, twenty, if he wanted to savor it properly. "I hate to say it, kids, but from everything I've seen and heard, what you're doing isn't really working the way you intended it to. In fact, it's impeding your ability to be heroes, not to mention your relationships with each other as a team."

"I don't know why you'd say something so ridiculous," Raven confronted him coldly, staring at his cup and wondering if her tea was bad. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to keep a particularly vulnerable member of your team alive, is there?"

"Of course not, but there's such a thing as taking it so far."

"Excuse me? Taking _survival _too far? And I'm not sure I like your tone."

"Indeed, friend Raven, and I refuse to compromise the safety of boyfriend Robin because some (generally indecipherable Tamaranian word here) does not _approve_ of our way of doing things." Batman stood up. Unfortunately for him, it's pretty much impossible to slide out a squeaky metal-framed chair stealthily. "Where do you think _you_ are going, the Batman?"

"To the bathroom..."

"Not until you have finished apologizing to Robin and commenced making him feel warm and fluffy!"

"Fuzzy," Kid Flash corrected her gently.

"What?"

"The saying is, warm and fuzzy."

"I do not care what the Earth saying is! _My_ saying is that the Batman should-"

"Lower your voice, Starfire."

"Of course, friend Raven. I am sorry, it only upsets me that our guest would imply that there is anything wrong with how we are handling Robin's... situation. We are all doing well, are we not, boyfriend Robin?"

"Y-yes, Starfire!"

"Hah, he sounds like a battered wife."

"Dude, that's not funny."

"Sorryyyyy, sheesh! You guys are touchy lately. Are you _sure_ everything's okay? I mean, you _do_ all seem a little on edge. Not that I'm tryin' to- ow!"

"That's my tea."

"Well, you weren't drinking it!"

"I will in a second. Look, kids, you can't just keep plastering smiles over everything and smoothing down all the edges in life. Even just a few minutes forced to be at a table together is showing that it's not working. For example, Starfire, you've spent a lot of time obsessing over getting Batman to reconcile with Robin. I respect obsessive stalking behavior, I really do, but you're basically asking him to be someone he's just not. And while you were gone doing that, Robin's been getting pretty worked up, even though he won't show it. Did you know that he thought you and Kid Flash were involved?"

Robin slid down in his chair slowly, attempting to sink under the table.

"Whoa. Rob, man, I would never do that! Not that your girl's not a looker, but-"

"You have obviously misinterpreted something, faceless guest who am rapidly growing to dislike! Robin would never doubt the strength of Tamaranian love, for it is as mighty as a full-grown baogvlixx!"

"Robin? Have you been talking to Question without telling us? I _knew_ I should have put a password lock on your communicator!"

"Dude, lay off him! Just 'cause he gets insecure about stuff doesn't mean anything! Right, Cy?"

"Oh jeez... I'm sorry, beansprout, but I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of pretending, alright?!"

"Lower your voice, Cyborg..."

"No, Raven! I'm sick of it! Beast Boy, I don't love you!"

"Why not?!"

"I'm sorry little man but what you're askin' is too much for me to give!"

"All I want is to spend every day around you and have fun with you and maybe talk about our feelings every once in a while, is that so hard?!"

"Both of you, listen, this is not the time or place-"

"And you've gotta stop acting like our mom Raven! Do you know how long it took me to get the smell out of my clothes from being locked in my room?!"

"Well, maybe if you cleaned your room more often-"

"SEE?! SHE JUST WON'T STOP!"

"WELL IT'S NOT LIKE I CAN DEPEND ON ANYONE ELSE TO BE THE MATURE ONE AROUND HERE SO-"

"OH STOP IT WITH THE TENTACLES, WE'RE ALL USED TO IT BY NOW! WHY DON'T YOU JUST-"

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU FEEL-"

"SIT BACK DOWN IN YOUR CHAIR THE BATMAN! YOU ARE NOT EXCUSED FROM THE TABLE UNTIL YOU HAVE HAD 'THE MOMENT' WITH ROBIN!"

Kid Flash sunk under the table to hide with Robin. Question observed all this for a while, then leaned over to Superman and whispered in his ear.

"IF YOU KIDS DON'T HUSH RIGHT NOW SO HELP ME GOD I WILL GROUND YOU ALL FOR A MONTH AND DON'T YOU _DARE_ THINK I CAN'T DO IT!" Superman roared at Question's prompting, with sufficient force to blow Raven's hood down, plaster Beast Boy's fur to his skin, tilt Batman's cowl askew, and crack Question's teacup. Question quickly began trying somewhat unsuccessfully to hold the tea in, while Beast Boy fell to the ground clutching his ears, mumbling something very unBeast Boy-like that he had learned from watching a Chris Rock show Cyborg a while back. Superman gave them all a moment to collect their composure, and as soon as everyone had their intimidated, somewhat frazzled faces fixed on him, he took a breath and spoke at a more normal, if determined tone. "Because I'm Superman. And I can do _anything_." And he seemed to believe that enough that no one dared call him on it.

"Thank you, Superman," Question said calmly, his dignity somewhat hampered by his efforts at tea preservation. "Now then, it seems like you kids have some issues to sort out after all, wouldn't you agree? Robin, it's okay, you can come back up now." Robin popped up like a mole afraid being whacked with a mallet. "Kids, take it from a professional neurotic person, what you're doing is severely dysfunctional. And more than that, _it won't work_. Safety isn't a yes or no, an on or an off switch. It's a sliding scale built on many subtle degrees of risk. Just living is risky in and of itself. Being a superhero? That's practically suicidal. But you do it anyway, because it's the right thing to do. And the right thing to do is always something that comes at the sacrifice of yourself, sooner or later."

"So what are you saying? That we should just _let_ Robin have another heart attack?"

"Of course not! But... oh, drat, can I get another cup here? Thanks. Anyway. As I was saying, you don't have to just push him on towards certain doom. But you don't have to protect him all the time either. Look at what you've devolved into from trying. You can't communicate honestly with each other. You've got authority issues. Resentments and misunderstandings just left to simmer quietly on back burners till they explode. I'm pretty sure you kids are better than that. If you want to be happy, and keep on doing what you've been doing, you need to accept the fact that Robin will probably get a bit too stressed out sometimes. And there may be consequences for that. And you can try to mitigate that if you feel like you should, but you can't live in fear of the worst thing happening all the time, killing off any chance of normal human interaction to play OCD control freak. Well, you can, but then you turn into Batman. And no one wants to be that."

"That's true," Batman said in a monotone where gravel hid a suspicious hint of pride. "Even I don't want to be me," he added somewhat dryly.

"Thanks for the support. So, yeah, kids? Excuse me, _Titans_? You have to find the place on the gray scale that works for you. And no one else can decide where the slider should be. But going to one extreme or the other is self-defeating. Now if you will excuse me, I think I will finish my tea in private, since you heroes still have plenty of things to talk about without me getting in the way and making things awkward." And with that, Question hightailed it. With his tea.

And after a few seconds of staring uncomfortably at each other, they all started to talk at once again. Not in anger, this time, but in haste to apologize and reassure one another that They Were Still Okay. Boundaries were reestablished. Bonds reformed. Trust regrown, and suspicions disintegrated. And it was all done without anything going into anyone else's butt, which was really all Cyborg had wanted, so he, too, was happy. The word 'sorry' got used a lot. There were even a few hugs. Kid Flash ran off, stole a saxophone (your pardon, gentle readers... 'borrowed' a saxophone) from See-More, and played a gentle little waa-waa-waa family sitcom background tune. Superman watched over it all, nodding approvingly.

Only Batman stood out. Skulking, trying not to squeeze his legs together, altogether looking like a grim, slightly bobbing piece of statuary. Much to his dismay, Starfire returned her attention to him before he could creep away. Renewed with joy, she floated over to him exuberantly and tried to push him forward towards Robin. The overall effect was more or less identical to trying to push a cat by its hindquarters into a carrier.

"Come, the Batman, please join us! I will create a Tamaranian friendship embracing ring from friend Cyborg's spare pieces of the automobile momentarily."

Even Batman didn't quite have the nerve to ask why she needed the car parts. But the picture that welled up in his mind was something like a cross between a prison cell and a torture device, with him and Robin stuck in it and forced to talk about their feelings forever. It was, in short, his idea of Hell.

"I really have other things I should be doing..." he muttered, turning away.

"Oh, come on, Bats," Superman butted in (because that was what he _really_ did best). "You're already here. Might as well act like a normal human being for once. I promise I won't tell anyone. Hey, mini-Flash, do that waa-waa-waa thing again! Hah! See, you've even got background music! Go on and pat him on the back or something at least!"

"This is ridiculous."

"You know what's _really_ ridiculous?" Kid Flash said. "Someone who's too stuck up to even give their son figure and sidekick a hug. I think that's ridiculous."

"Your saxophone-playing is awful," Batman rejoined coldly, his eyes just narrow white slits of hatred.

"Oh, come onnnnnn. COME ONNNNNNNNN!"

"Look, guys, I appreciate what you're trying to do but this isn't really necessary," Robin broke in a trifle desperately. He was the only one with senses sufficiently attuned to the bat spectrum to sense impending nuclear detonations. "I'm, I'm _happy_ never interacting with my mentor figure to whom I owe everything I am in life... we're perfectly fine the way we are... it's normal to not have a conversation for years at a time with someone you simultaneously respect and resent in equal measure!"

"Very good, Robin! Boyfriend Robin has done the opening up and showed us his feelings. Would you like to do the sharing of _your_ feelings, the Batman?"

"You want... me to talk... about my _feelings_..." Batman growled.

A drop of sweat fell off of Robin's face.

"Yes, the Batman! Please do share your heart with us!"

Robin tried to back away, bumped into Cyborg, and kept moving his feet mindlessly.

"My _heart_..." Batman snarled, "is filled with RAGE and FURY at the complete INCOMPETENCE and IDIOCY of a bunch of halfwit irresponsible untrained TEENAGERS! You want me to SAY what I FEEL, and STALKED me and ASSAULTED me and KIDNAPPED me to get to it! FINE! HERE'S WHAT I FEEL THEN, YOU DAMN BRATS!" he roared with viking-like vigor. And the damn brats were very, very still and quiet as Batman turned to his former sidekick, closing in like a lion on a lamb. "YOU WANT TO KNOW IF I CARE?! OF _COURSE_ I CARE! I MOLDED YOU INTO AN IMAGE OF ME! EVEN YOUR REBELLIONS AND DIFFERENCES HAVE ALL BEEN DUE TO MY INFLUENCE ON YOU AS A MENTOR AND AS A WOULD-BE FATHER! I DON'T AGREE WITH YOUR HALF-ASSED METHODS, YOUR SLOPPY PHILOSOPHY, OR ESPECIALLY WITH YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THAT BIKINI-CLAD ALIEN BIMBO! I HATE EVERYTHING YOU DO BUT I STILL CARE, BECAUSE DAMMIT, YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING I'LL EVER HAVE TO A SON! I LOVE YOU, ALRIGHT?! THERE! I SAID IT! _I LOVE YOU!_ I WOULD KILL FOR YOU! I WOULD DIE FOR YOU! I JUST DON'T WANT TO SPEND ANY TIME WITH YOU OR TALK TO YOU OR LOOK AT YOU OR BE IN THE SAME ROOM WITH YOU EVER AGAIN!"

"Oh my God... I feel exactly the same way!" Robin burst out, crying tears of joy. "I don't like you at all! In fact, I think you're a horrible person! But I still love you!"

Starfire nodded smugly. "Now, commence with the embracing," she ordered.

"I am _not_-" Batman started, his voice hoarse from all the yelling.

"YOU WILL HUG ROBIN OR YOU WILL _**DIE**_!" A Tamaranian fist slammed down on the table, incidentally pulverizing a sugarless cookie into sugarless dust.

Batman actually considered the second option for a split second before giving in. But he did give in, and he and Robin did hug. And it was adorable. And Cyborg took a picture to upload all over the internet, where it eventually made its way to a teenage girl's bedroom as a homemade yaoi poster, photoshopped to remove half the clothing. You are left to guess which half.

And all was well with the world.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Meanwhile, back at the ranch... that is to say, Gotham, Jinx had elected to stay behind. This is partially because she was having fun getting back in touch with her villainous roots in ambiguous Catwoman style, and partially because she wanted to see the sights before she went back to boring old Jump. Not that Jump was really that boring, but she was getting kind of fond of Gotham's skyline. It made her crave tomato soup.

And, quite conveniently, she happened to have a boyfriend who was fast enough to hang out with her while simultaneously hanging out with the Titans in Jump. This meant that when he wasn't opening doors for her (although she had to tap her foot meaningfully sometimes), or buying her drinks, he was telling her all the hilarious things that were going on. Hilarious things that she was glad to not be a part of. She laughed, but it was the kind of laughter you did because you were a safe distance away.

"Those guys are such complete dorks. Hey, d'you think that emerald necklace would look nice on me?"

"I dunno, I think it'd kinda clash with your hair."

"The _correct_ answer is, 'It would, because everything looks nice on someone as pretty as you.'" She clucked. There was still so much training to do.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to read our relationship script again."

They shared a grin.

"So, you wanna get a pint of kill all humans?"

"A... what did you say?"

"I said, do you want to get a pint of rocky road?"

"You really should get around to seeing a shrink one of these days. Blood's still got like five percent of your brain hypnotized I think."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved it off nonchalantly. He kept on bringing that up out of nowhere for no reason at all, she didn't understand it. "D'you want the ice cream or not? I don't wanna eat it all by myself."

"I guess I could force myself to- oh, sorry about that," he apologized to a trenchcoated stranger after they bumped into each other. "Nice hair." It was hard to tell in the shade of evening and general pollution-based haze, but the stranger's hair seemed to have a greenish tint.

"Thanks. I keep it sleek and shiny with... JOKER'S OWN SPECIAL LAUGHTER-INDUCING SHAMPOO! HAHAHAH!" The man throw his trenchcoat open, and instead of getting flashed as they'd expected, the two heroes found themselves dodging streams of green gunk. One hit a nearby squirrel, which started making the squirrel equivalent of hysterical giggles. It was surprisingly creepy.

"Hey, you leave that cute little squirrel alone, you... holy jeez, it's the Joker!" Jinx interrupted herself with a bit of awe. "...wow, man, your teeth are really gross."

"Yes, it's me, the _Joker_, and the clown's got to play while the bat's... excuuuuuse me?! There's nothing wrong with my teeth!"

"Are you _kidding_ me?! They're like a million miles long!"

"And they're green," Kid Flash pointed out. "Well, kind of a rotting lime color really."

"Have you tried brushing lately? Seriously. I know you're eeeeeeevul and all, but that's just gross."

His pale face contorted in rage around that pointy nose, which he directed at first one teen, then the other. "How _dare_ you! I wait for just the right moment to strike, to bring laughter and homicidal joy to the hearts of Gothamites so depressed by the current economic recession, and you _mock_ me because I'm not one of those anorexic magazine cover clowns?! Well, I'll show _you_ who's getting the last laugh! HahahaHAhaHAhaHAhaHAHAHAH-UCK!" The Joker fell over, still clutching his assortment of cheerfully colorful oozing weaponry.

Kid Flash and Jinx looked at each other, then looked back at the Joker, who was not moving at all. Then they looked at each other again. And back down.

Jinx poked the clown prince of crime gingerly.

"_H-help,_" the Joker wheezed weakly, twitching. "_H-having... a l-laughter... induced... h-heart... attack..._"

"Wow. Uh, you call an ambulance. I'll see if I can find a doctor!" Kid Flash stated with all due nobility and heroism, zooming off.

Jinx stayed still, looking down at the Joker thoughtfully. She rubbed her chin, considering all the options and potential consequences. Then, very calmly, she kicked a discarded newspaper over the Joker's face, turned around, and walked away, whistling.

**EINDE**

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**...**

**...**

**(The author would like to take a brief moment to thank the readers, and in particular to thank the reviewers, for their patience and enthusiasm. It would be no exaggeration to say this story would not have been finished without you guys. So, if you're wondering if you made a difference in expressing yourself... the answer is yes, you did.)**


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